Burn
by jjboivin
Summary: Nothing is as deadly as winter. Nothing hurts more than ice. Left alone in a snow storm, the lamb will become prey. A cold metal hand is pressed to her throat and cold, blue eyes burn holes into her soul. An electric shock passes between her fingers before she collapses. BuckXOC. Smut warning. Angst. Slow burn but not as slow.
1. Prologue

**Disclaimer: I do not own anything pertaining to MCU or Marvel Universe. This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to anything or anyone living or dead is pure coincidence.**

Prologue

Steve looked for one last time over Natasha's shoulder, his eyes taking an emotional turn as he saw once again the empty screen. His incessant pacing was driving his comrade crazy, yet the constant movement was the only relief he had. That and biting the shit out of his nails. He usually kept himself clean and cut; hair trimmed on the side of his head like the army had taught him and face shaven so no credit card slid against his cheek would announce even a millimeter of grown facial hair. He was an extremist in his hygiene, but that was the essence of Steve Rogers. His nails were hence always trimmed in an oval shape and the cuticles clean. Yet now they were savagely bitten until his flesh bled and Nat had to slap his hand away from his mouth.

"We just need to be patient," Nat said, her voice monotone, her back still turned to him. She had her flaming hair in a twist above her head, which was unusual for the Russian spy. Well, considering the unusual hour at which they were still working, he would just as much expect anything.

"You really think this is going to help us?" he asked as he once again brought his thumb to his mouth. He nibbled, his thoughts wired with different equations and problems.

Natasha sighed; her ultimate signal that there was no use in persisting. She draped one leg over the arm of the chair, her black pajama pants reflecting the electric blue of the screen. Her fingers continued to click on the mouse, the computer zapping from one page to another, creating an array of ghostly light in the tiny computer room.

"Why would he come back anyway?" Steve asked all of a sudden. His anxiety was eating at him worse than ever. His desire to protect the ones HYDRA was persecuting was being squashed when he was rendered useless.

"He probably knows something that we don't," she mumbled, her mind preoccupied as she tapped away on the keyboard.

Steve was growing impatient. His mind was taking roads untraveled and it was driving him insane. "How could he get HYDRA intel right before it got destroyed?" he persisted.

"He's a demi-God, Rogers," Nat answered, as if that was supposed to answer every and all questions.

Steve vividly remembered the time when Loki was viciously attacking New York, his pet aliens doing his dirty work. His only imaginable goal was complete control over human kind. He was defeated and presumed dead, until his presence was detected in the outskirts of Montreal. The system that Nat and Clint had set up using their skills in computer science had detected a facial recognition of the famous demi-God, and since then, Steve was determined to understand why. The only clue left behind was the HYDRA insignia on Loki's shoulder.

Natasha had wired a computer system that generates recognition among files. She was currently zooming through all HYDRA files and information about Montreal and it's surrounding towns collected through hacking. The system, as the red-head had mentioned, would detect similarities and links between HYDRA and the metropolitan area.

Suddenly, just as Steve was losing faith, the screen illuminated green and froze. He hurriedly made his way over Nat's shoulder and stared, wide-eyed. The screen was showing the only link detected between HYDRA and the little town called Lightwood. It was a citizenship card, a girl with dark curls and eyes the color of midnight was staring right up at them, a sly smirk on her lips. A record of her medical inquiries and her schooling hung under the picture. She had been a great high school student, stunning grades that persisted into her college education. For HYDRA, she had a genetic alternation that made her a perfect subject for project X17.

"Why would Loki want a HYDRA failed experiment?" Nat mumbled to herself as she scrolled through the documents.

"Because she wasn't a failed experiment," he answered as he leaned in and pointed to the title of the last document.

 _ **Subject x98 ready to comply**_


	2. Chapter 1

Chapter one: Crocodilian

The girl worked with impressive speed as she went from one end of the counter to the other. She kept a permanent smile plastered on her lips, a strand of loose hair brushing the corner of her mouth. The black apron with her name on it was tightly knotted at the back of her neck, coiling her muscles and she often pressed her palm to the strain while she worked. The sun streaming in from the wall-sized window was illuminating the sweat collected on her forehead and she wished for a breeze of fresh air. Her lungs felt congested with the smell of beer, hamburger meat, and fries. Her palms were sticky from cleaning chemicals and all the beer she spilled while on the rush.

"Refill please!"

The girl pushed the loose strand of dark hair behind her ear and sighed, stretching her mouth into an even bigger smile. She trotted to the other end, a pint of beer in her right hand and a wash rag in the other. She rapidly refilled the mugs and collected her tip, giving the men a huge smile. Once her back was turned, she dropped the fake act and quickly counted her tip. Then she was back to serving.

When the evening rolled in and it had been the longest four hours she had lived, she was more than happy to see the traffic in the restaurant slow. There were only two men at the bar, sitting on opposite ends, and three occupied tables on the floor. Since she was a barmaid, the tables were not her duty, but rather the other servants whom she didn't bother to befriend as much.

"Pretty girl like you shouldn't be working in a place like this." She was used to the usual flirt and thus knew how to reply. Yet when she turned and spotted her regular Conrad sitting with an empty mug, she couldn't help the satisfied smirk on her lips.

"Fella done me wrong so I had no choice but to work for my money," she cooed as she filled Conrad's mug with his favorite. He was a middle-aged man who had lost his job a couple years back and was no living on wellfare. He was of a certain unnoticeable weight with a head full of thick, curly white hair and eyes the color of an icy ocean. He had meaty hands that had seen better days and if he laughed too hard he would go into a coughing fit that would end up in his beer being switched to water. But he was kind and she could enjoy meaningless conversations with him.

"Don't let no fella ruin your life, little Addie," he said as he accepted his mug. He took a huge gulp and sighed when the liquor hit his stomach.

"What brings you hear on a Thursday night?" Addie asked, wiping the bar with her filthy rug. Honestly, there was no point in cleaning the bar when all she had was a rug as dirty as her attic.

"Ah," he grunted, another swing of his beer sending a stream of fluid down the side of his mouth. "Nothing on T.V and the neighbors are being loud again."

Addie smiled and place a small pot of cashews in front of him. "The usual that brings you around here on Fridays," she giggled.

"How's school?"

She gave a sly shrug. Conrad was prone to little memory loss as he usually drank so much that he didn't remember what they had talked about. "I told you this already," she said slowly, "but I don't go to school anymore, Conrad."

He frowned deeply, looked at the ceiling like he usually does when he can't remember anything, and took another swing of his beer. "Is it because of that fella that done you wrong?"

Addie gave a small laugh, the sound like wind on a storm. "I wish, Conrad, I wish." She leaned against the soda machine and crossed her arms over her chest. "I had a car accident last year, remember?" she asked.

"Oh, yes."

"I was in a comma for a week and lost a bit of time in my memory," she continued. She had to speak to him like a child. Conrad seemed to illuminate all of a sudden and pointed at her.

"Oh yes and you forgot all your school stuff and couldn't do the final exams!" he exclaimed. The beer was slowly getting to him.

Addie smiled and pushed herself off the counter. She went to the other customer, collected his money, and washed his area once he had left. As she wiped down the counter on her way to Conrad, she continued. "I was discouraged from school and one thing led to another and I never went back."

"You look like such a brilliant girl," he mumbled to himself, his eyes staring at the bottom of his empty mug. Addie refilled it again and watched him dig right in.

One thing with Conrad was that he rarely complimented her physically. He only joked about it, but he usually used his very limited array of enriched words to encourage her to reach high. Not to live the same life as him. Yet since her accident, the world was doing everything in its power to make her fail. She was discouraged from school, having forgotten almost everything and everyone, and her parents had ever so nicely asked her to leave the family nest. There was just no safe exit for her take on the road she wanted to travel since she was twelve; university in psychology with a masters degree in the forensics branch. Yet her accident had stopped her in her second year of college.

She watched mindlessly as Conrad finished his second beer in a blink of an eye. "Slow down," she giggled, filling his mug for the third time. "Or else I'll be able to pierce holes in your belly and fill myself a mug."

"That's gross," he grumbled, chewing on cashews with an open mouth.

"You're gross."

The bell above the door rang, announcing new customers. Addie made her way to the end of the counter with a big smile on her face, her hands wringing the dirty rug. "Need a seat or the bar is fine with you?" she asked.

The two men, particularly tall, stood in the door frame. They both had caps on their heads like the sun was full out, except it was mid evening. The one on the left with bits of blonde hair sticking from under his cap smiled at her. "The bar will be fine," he answered lowly. He looked to his friends and both made their way, sitting on the opposite end of Conrad.

"What will you guys be having?" she asked brightly like her boss had taught her. The other man, with longer hair the color of charcoal, looked sideways at her.

"Your cheapest beer," he said in a grave tone. The one beside him gave her an innocent smile and the streetlights coming from the window illuminated for a second the color of a blue sky in his eyes.

"Anything to eat?"

Both shook their heads and returned their eyes to their phones. The bar was quiet. The only sound was the light music overhead and the chitter-chatter coming from the only three tables occupied. The lights were dimmed, and by the bar there was only the Christmas lights hung on the wall that were illuminated.

Addie came with two bugs of beer and a plate of cashews, handing them over to the two men. "If there's anything else you need, my name is Addison."

She returned to Conrad, who had finished his third beer and was ordering his fourth. "Be careful Conrad," she teased as she filled his fourth mug. "One day your blood is going to be majorly beer."

"Then so be it," he laughed, his mouth full of half chewed nuts. "I'll die a happy man." Addie and him shared a quiet laugh.

The night progressively went quieter and quieter until it was only Conrad and the two silent men in the bar. Addie was almost at the end of her shift, so she took her time cleaning the cups and the counter, tying her loose stands into a messy knot at the base of her nape. Her back was hurting her and her head was beginning to pound the more the night lounged on.

"Is the kitchen closed?" one of the men, the blonde one, asked. He had a kind face; a soft face. The inner corners of his eyebrows were upturned and he had a shy smile on his lips. She noted how _clean_ he looked; shaved and polished until his skin glowed under the yellow Christmas lights.

"No, it closes when we do," she replied kindly, turning her back to continue cleaning the ice cream machine. "Do you want anything?"

"What's on the menu?" he asked, a chirp in his voice. He sounded like a little kid. Addie turned with a bright smile and gestured to the board the hung over the entrance of the kitchen.

"That's all we have for today."

The two men seemed to take a suspiciously long time in eyeing the menu board. The one his the dark hair even squinted and hummed, as if the board needed to be analyzed for theme and symbolism.

"What would you suggest?" the blonde one asked.

Before Addie could answer, Conrad chimed in. "You should try the the Mean Burger!" he exclaimed in a drunken slur. "You fellas look like you could use some meat on your bones." He gave a gurgled laugh and finished his eighth beer.

"Don't be rude now, Connie," Addie teased, but she looked at the two men from the corner of her eyes.

"Ah, they don't look like the cry-baby bunch," Conrad laughed. He stood up on his grubby legs and wobbled until he could take a seat beside them both.

"We'll both have the Mean Burger," the blond one said with a sympathetic smile. Addie nodded, scribbled onto her notepad, and hung the order over the kitchen door. She heard the cook, Reggie, snap at it before she had even made it back to the men.

"You guys look really familiar," Conrad mumbled, his tiny eyes squinted as he scanned from one man to the other. Addie took the opportunity to fill all three mugs up again and cleaned the spilled beer.

"We're just passing through town," the blond one mumbled, dipping his head so his cap hid his face.

"Where you guys from?" Conrad insisted.

When Addie took a good long stare with resolution in mind, she found the blond guy familiar. But not familiar as in she knew him, more as in she had seen him somewhere. She didn't want to voice her opinion. She wasn't as rude as Conrad.

"Maryland," he answered.

"Oh no, wait a second," Conrad grumbled, turning so he was now facing them head on. He furrowed his brows and Addie was an inch from calling Reggie to break up a fight when Conrad began laughing like there was tomorrow. He banged a fist on the counter and roared in laughter. "Oh my God, you're Captain America!"

Addie's eyes went as wide as saucers and she took the tiniest of steps back. Her heart was speeding and battering against her breast bone, her pulse echoing in her ears. She could feel her face heating and getting redder and redder the more Captain fucking America stared at her as if he had been caught red handed.

"What..." She hesitated, her breath caught in her throat. Her head was filled with confused questions, as if someone was screaming into her skull. "What the hell are you doing in _Montreal_?"

"It's..." He looked to his friend beside him and for another second, Addie was hit with realization. She had seen his face on the news countless times, his smug allure plastering the billboards of most wanted men. She couldn't believe how she hadn't noticed them before. "It's a long story," he finished.

Addie's eyes made contact with the icy color of James', as he tried his best to look inconspicuous. "James, right?" she asked, her voice tentative. He nodded slowly, his lips in a tight line. The stubble on his chin and cheeks made him a little less recognizable, yet the burning blue of his orbs gave him away. The winter soldier.

"Look we don't want any trouble," Captain said, looking from Conrad to Addie.

"We ain't gonna give you any, Capt." Conrad raised his hands each side of his head and gave a crooked grin. "Anyways, I'll probably be too drunk to remember." He laughed so hard his belly jiggled under the counter.

"Are you guys looking for something?" Addie asked, trying her best to look the least suspicious. She pretended to be careless as she dragged the dirty and soaked rag along the counter. When Cap proceeded to answer, she was cleaning the already spotless ice cream machine.

"We are but we aren't sure where to find them," he answered coldly.

 _Please not me, please not me, please not me._

She ranted in her head silently. The more she rubbed the machine, the more her hands shook and her lip trembled. If they figured out what she could do, they would lock her up and poke and prod her with needles. Her ears flooded with white noise and all she could hear was Cap mumbling something and Conrad roaring of laughter.

 _Please not me, please not me, please not me._

* * *

 **So maybe I should introduce myself**

 **I am a recent MCU fan and have been rummaging this idea in my head for the past weeks. This story has taken over my life at school, at home, and basically everywhere when my mind is conscious. I am up to date with the movies so there might be spoilers in here, be cautious.**

 **I am from Quebec, Canada, so yes, my first language is French. I have, however, been educated in English since kindergarten, so do not worry for punctuation, spelling, grammar, and syntax. However, we do spell things differently here than other countries, so if ever you are confused, feel free to DM me. Another thing to be aware; the metro for us is the subway for Americans, and our school system is very different. So when character development does come, if you are confused about college (which we call CEGEP here) and university, I can clarify it for you if you wish. Because of my French culture, I will be adding some french-y things here and there. If that offends you, there's a little X button top right of the screen. Click it.**

 **I am nineteen years old, currently doing my pre-university program in college (CEGEP) in psychology.**

 **No doubt my favorite MCU movie is the Captain America franchise!**

 **Now a little bit about my main character:**

 **Full name: Addison O'Connor**

 **Nickname: Addie**

 **Age (will be revealed later but heh wtv): 20**

 **Yes she is young for Bucky but that's the way it's going to be. For me, Bucky is 28 in this story.**

 **And now about my representation of Bucky in my story. The way I see him, he is unaware of how human feelings work. He is scared, I believe. And so my version of Buck will be someone impulsive, inconsiderate, non-intentionally careless, angry, rude, and more or less hateable. I don't see Bucky as a very verbal person, and so he won't be in the beginning. Obviously, things will change as the story progresses. Be he is angsty and takes whatever he wants, because being in HYDRA has transformed his way of interacting with people on a normal daily basis. In other words, when he is not fighting for his life, he will not be cuddly, lovable, and chatting. Him and Steve's bromance will still exist, but won't be perceived as a surface thing; it goes deeper than that.**

 **Feel free to DM me if you wish to correct information throughout the story. I am a very open-minded person to constructive criticism. If you only come here to bash me and be rude, I will not tolerate.**

 **Thank you and enjoy.**


	3. Chapter 2

**So obviously this is AU where Bucky never went into Cyro. Post CA:CW and will be AU from then on.**

 **I realized there were some grammar mistakes in chapter one after rereading it. I will make sure to get on that as soon as possible.**

Chapter 2: Shrive

About a year ago, coming home from a friend's house, Addie lost her memory. The last memory she had was the long ribbon of dark road glistening ahead of her, stretching on and on and on. She remembered a song, delicate and sweet, playing in the car. A light rain was washing against her windows, yet she was driving with the window half way down because the air smelled like summer.

It was mid-spring. Two weeks before final exams.

There was nothing to fill the gap from that moment, driving peacefully at night, to the moment she awoke in her room. She had no memory of the accident, that her parents said almost took her life. Even her body held no physical reminder of the crash. She was told a drunk driver nipped her car and she had suffered multiple concussions, hence her week spent in an induced coma.

But she knew there was something wrong with herself the moment she woke up to her daisy white room with the heart monitor beeping. She remembered, in those first instances of wakefulness, the feel of something sharp and painful buzzing in her veins. A cold feeling, as if she had spent a decade in ice, overwhelmed her. The heart monitor went crazy, her heart beating so fast it was inhumanely possible.

When the first days passed, the painful sensation and the cold receded, but not the feeling of being out of place. She wasn't the same. Her parents avoided her like she was the plague. Three months was missing from memory. Her mother spent hours talking lowly on the phone to whom Addie assumed must have been the doctor. Her father recoiled from her touch and even installed a lock on his bedroom door.

Once she had dropped completely out of school and had been somewhat encouraged by her parents to move out, she rarely saw them. They moved somewhere up north and bought a house she only saw once in the past year with money she didn't know they had. A bad feeling was coiling in her stomach ever since. Something was terribly wrong.

That's when the electricity came. It came in one white hot shock that blasted through her chest and destroyed the wall in her room, leaving a big hole to gape into the bathroom. It was as if someone reached a burning fist into her chest and ripped open her rib cage. Her limbs went numb and everything slowed, her veins feeling as if they were boiling. Her muscles coiled under her skin, prickling and sizzling under the flesh. Her ears became filled with sounds she never knew she could hear. Her eyes saw things impossible for the human eye. She was sure she was going crazy.

After the first initial shock, her body became used to the sizzling. Her fingers would burn every time her control slipped, and when she'd wake up the next morning, the skin had healed completely.

Her fear became the essence of her life. She was terrorized of her own self; she always kept an emergency sleep pill in case she slipped, or she wore gloves most of the time, and even refused to touch anybody for a long time. Until she decided she would control it, nevertheless use it.

What at first was terrible sessions soon turned regular and harmless. She was scared to look at it at first; she was a freak of nature that could do serious harm. Yet once she came to hold a tiny ball of condensed electrical impulses in her palm, she came to like it. And once she came to understand that what she referred to as the whispers and the sights were actually the electricity talking to her, she came to smile and enjoy it.

However, she needed to hide it. Whatever or whoever created her would come looking for her one day; maybe that was why her parents fled. She always wondered if they knew beforehand of her newfound abilities.

So when Steve and James, Captain America and The Winter Soldier, stepped into her bar, she was trembling in her boots. She thought they would take her away from the only normal life she could have, the only salvation from her horrible transformation. Surely they figured her out like they had with the Maximoff twins. Like they had with every other enhanced being on their Avengers team. Surely SHIELD had found her.

However, they left the bar giving generous tip and offered to drive Conrad back home, and she hadn't heard from them since.

* * *

She lived in small, two and a half apartment not even a minute's walk from the bar. In the entrance, there was a clear view of her messy kitchen and her dinner table full of books and papers; her experiments. There was a half wall separating the entrance from the living room, which was mostly a wretched couch, a horribly filled bookshelf, and a t.v set. Her room was down the hall, next to the bathroom, and never forget to mention the horrible hole in the wall that she still had to repair. Her bedroom was filled with her childhood queen bed that she had moved from her parent's house, a nice wooden dresser her recently deceased granny had given to her, and her computer desk, which held her daily diary and all the books she wrote her hypotheses in.

The apartment wasn't much, but it kept her alive. Much more than her parents would now that they were afraid of her.

Addison kept to herself and followed her weekly routine. Usually the bar gave her night shifts, and so she slept in and spent her afternoons researching on her enhancements at the library or her room. She was delved in herself as much as she had delved into the Harry Potter series as a child. She was totally and irrevocably selfish and she didn't care. There was no way in hell she was going to hurt anybody, much less herself.

As for America's golden boy turned bad and his side kick, they never made another appearance at the bar. For the following weeks, she even managed to completely forget about the duo.

Until she ran right into Steve at the library, his feeble attempt to make himself inconspicuous with dark glasses almost making her spit out her coffee. She wasn't scared to bump into him; she knew they would never find out about her. She was sure of it. Never had anyone, but probably her parents, seen what she could do firsthand.

"Captain," she blurted. He was wearing a grey Under Armor sweatshirt and black jeans despite the scorching heat of summer. He wasn't wearing a cap like the last time she'd seen him and his hair was reflecting golden and caramel light. He looked so _surprised_ and innocent that she came to believe he wasn't after her after all.

"Miss Addison," he said gently, the corner of his lips turning slightly upward. "What a-a surprise to see you here."

She rolled her eyes apathetically. "It's not because I don't wear glasses like you that I'm not smart," she replied quite bitterly. He chuckled, raising his eyebrows as he slowly removed the glasses.

"I have to admit these aren't mine," he replied.

"Are they your friend's?" she asked slowly. His eyes found hers quickly and a look of auspiciousness crossed his features but vanished when he smirked slyly.

"No."

"Is he around or is he out terrorizing half the population?" Her sarcasm leaked off her tone like acid and she could tell it hurt Steve.

"Actually." Speaking of the devil, the said winter soldier waltzed in next to Captain, his face torn between anger and sadness and pity as he gracefully saluted Addie. He wore a black long sleeve shirt to hide the metal arm, yet his hands were bare of any gloves. She caught the glimmer of his metal hand. His legs adorned light jeans that hung low on his narrow hips. "I don't do that terrorizing half the population stuff anymore." He gave her a quick, joyless smile.

Something shifted in her and she found herself feeling as if she needed to _protect_ him. Before the feeling could overwhelm her, however, she shook herself from it. "Well," she said with a huge sigh, "what are you fellas still doing in the most french part of the continent?"

"We kind of like it here, actually," Steve answered with a bright smile.

"You guys are crazy," she laughed, tucking a dark lock behind her ear. "And what are you doing in a library?"

Steve and James exchanged a look so quick it was barely anything to someone who didn't teach herself to decipher any and all human emotion. Addie caught the slight change in atmosphere and the the not so subtle gulp of James.

She tried to act as innocent as she could; raising a brow encouragingly. Steve cleared his throat. "We needed to use the computers."

"Well isn't that great," she said. She had to act as if she didn't care and didn't want to dig into their business even though she was dying to. "I'll leave you boys now. Later."

She stepped between them and made for the empty desk. "We'll be seeing you," Steve called out, which made her stop in her tracks before turning and giving him and James the loveliest smile she could conjure up.

Addie was good with computers, so she waited for James and Steve to have completely left the building before she waltzed her way to the computer section. She faced the elderly woman who was in charge for signing in people who needed to use the computers.

She put on her best Betty Cooper face and smiled. "Sorry to disrupt you ma'am," she said in a sugar-coated tone, "but my friends just left and they just texted me saying they left their email account open on a computer here. They can't remember which one though. I mean, they're a crazy bunch. They refuse to buy a laptop and when they come here to use the computer, they always leave their accounts opened and I keep telling them to-"

"What's their names?" the lady interrupted, a look of annoyance on her face.

Surely Steve and James wouldn't have given their real names. She couldn't come up with what they would call themselves, so she played it cool. "They're pretty tall guys, and beefy, very beefy," she tempted. The woman looked at her over her pink glasses as if Addie was a hormone raged teenager even though her licence clearly said twenty. Not a teen anymore. "One had dark glasses...?"

"Oh yes," the woman said in vague arrogance. "They were at computer 4. Hurry up please."

Addie thanked the arrogant old garbage and hurried to the computer. She used the little knowledge from her old school friends in hacking to conjure up a computer history; as in what they had opened on either the web or just the internet. First they had searched the bar at which she worked, which made her cheeks burn. Then they had opened up an inserted USB device to which she was not strong enough in hacking to open the contents since the USB key was not in the computer anymore.

She chewed on her bottom lip savagely. Heat flooded her senses but she tampered down the electricity that was prying to be released.

Before she could stop herself, she was rushing down the library to the door, her backpack swinging on her shoulders. She pushed the heavy wooden doors opened and rushed down the cement steps, onto the busy streets of the downtown area. Her heart was pounding so hard, she was scared it would rip out of her chest. Her body was buzzing so vehemently that she feared she'd lose control. All her senses were raw, as if someone had peeled the first layer of her flesh and she could now feel and hear everything. When she was in a stressed state like that, her abilities rushed to her all of a sudden, knocking her off balance.

Brown eyes searched left and right for any sign of the duo that was hot on her tracks.

Her palms collected sweat as she stood there, turning in circles. She heard the flow of electricity pumping through her ears like a second heartbeat. Buzzing and sizzling screeched at her, her eyes indulging all the impulses coming from wires and phones and everything was so _overwhelming_.

Until she spotted Steve up ahead the boulevard.

"Steve!" If he was truly enhanced, unlike her, he would hear. She began running, her arms swinging beside her. She had no idea what pushed her to jump into the flames, but the white noise and the impulses screaming at her from everywhere was driving her to the brink. She was right at the edge.

"Steve!"

She ran quicker, trying to catch up. People were staring, but all she saw was the vibes and the pulses of their electronics. She knew she was losing control when she _felt_ them turning off, exploding, or sizzling in people's hands. That was the number one sign that her self control was slipping; electronics turn off, explode, or burn right into a pile of burnt metal.

"Steve, wait!"

He turned slightly and caught sight of her. James stood ever so slightly in front of the Captain, his eyes round and filled with confusion and melancholy. She reached them and leaned over on her knees, breathless.

"You guys aren't here just "passing by" are you?" she asked, her heart racing in her chest. She was a mess of confusion, anger, and desperation, and she knew they noticed.

Steve opened his mouth to say something cleverly evasive, but the atmosphere was filled with so much desperation that he could not overlook the truth anymore. He sighed sadly, turned to James, and dipped his head.

The latter was staring at her as if he was seeing the most gruesome scene in the history of horror movies. His face was contorted in so many ways that she had a hard time pinning his exact emotional state.

"You guys aren't here on leisure either, I suppose?" She straightened and looked at them with a look that said it all. They couldn't lie to her.

"No, we're not." Surprisingly, it was James who answered. "We're here for you." Steve made a move to stop him, but James gave him a stern look.

"I knew this day would come," Addie mumbled to herself. "I just wished I had more time."

"We aren't here to hurt you," Steve said quickly, his brows turned upwards in that sad manner of his. "We need your help. We weren't sure if you were hostile."

Addie laughed sardonically. She barely weighed 120 lbs, how could she be hostile in any way? Besides her electricity. Captain America and the Winter Soldier were invincible individually, imagine as a pair.

"How do I know you're not hostile either?" she threw back, furrowing her brows.

Surprisingly again, it was James who answered. "Because we aren't."

"We'll see about that, James," she snapped.

"It's Bucky."

* * *

 **I just wanted to establish more development before I dive right into the hunky business.**

 **I did say slow burn, so expect a slow burn. But eventual Bucky and Addie scenes are coming.**

 **Wishing you a happy weekend.**

 **Updates should come in once a week, but I will not stick to a schedule. Thank you for reading!**


	4. Chapter 3

**Still establishing the hows and whys of the beginning. After this chapter, I am confident things will start to engage.**

 **Salaam is a salutation meaning peace in some Islamic countries.**

 **FairyTailF.T** : **thank you for your encouraging words. They are very appreciated! Hope you like this chapter and do not fret, I am not letting this story go!**

Chapter three: Salaam

"And now there is a divide between the Avengers. We do not fight as a team anymore, but we rather act as two sides of the coin. A decision separated us and now both sides are fugitives to the other. SHIELD is down, HYDRA is suspected to be annihilated, and now we are just wanderers."

Addison looked at Steve with round eyes, taking in all the up-to-date speech with vigor and a cup of hot chocolate nestled in her palms. She had invited them over for coffee, since discussing the matter of confidential files in public was considered dangerous. Both James and Steve were sat on either side of her square table, their untouched, cold coffee sitting in front of them. Their faces adorned stoic expressions, their brows knitted tight together. It was mostly Steve who was doing the talking, yet James had his own word or two to pepper into the conversation.

"And now you try to be as stealth as possible?" the girl asked, her big brown eyes glued to the superhero sitting in her kitchen. She still couldn't believe that a former American beacon and HYDRA asset were sitting comfortably in jeans and t-shirts in her kitchen.

"I'm still trying to reach out to Tony, despite contrary opinions," Captain answered with a not-so-subtle glare to his comrade seated in front of him. "I still have faith in the Avengers, despite the team being an entity with no one in it."

"So because of James-" Addie started.

"Bucky-"

"And conflict of interest, you guys are fugitives?" she continued, completely ignoring James' futile attempt at correcting her.

"Not just me and Buck," Steve answered, looking uncomfortable. "It's also Sam, Wanda, Scott, and Clint." Both men shared a serious nod.

Everything seemed so banal, even if the words coming out of their mouths were far from it. The situation would have been less unbelievable if they weren't dressed like random citizens; a gym shirt with black jeans for one and a long sleeve shirt and light jeans for another. Wearing their popular uniforms would have been far less awkward for Addie.

"I've heard of Wanda, but not so much the others," she said honestly.

"You will get to know them," Steve answered, his ever so kind eyes soothing the aching pain in her heart. "I think you will work well with Wanda."

"What does that mean?" she asked slowly, her voice almost a squeak. She held onto her cup of hot chocolate for dear life, her knuckles turning as white as her cheeks. James sighed as if that was what he was waiting for all along, his lips in a tight line, his brows raised. He looked as if he would rather be anywhere but in her apartment sitting on that darn squeaky chair.

"Let's not take ten thousand roads to get to the point, right, Steve?" he said bitterly, his burning blue eyes staring at his friend. He had one hand on his thigh and the other tapping relentlessly on the table. He looked mad.

"We all know you've got a chip on your shoulder, James, but I got nothing to do with it, so turn that frown upside down." Addie was prone to speak before thinking and her own attitude was a reflection of what was truly passing through her mind.

James looked surprised, yet strained his expression as if he was holding back. "It's _Bucky_ ," he gritted through his teeth.

"Anyway," Steve interjected, his brows furrowed as if he couldn't believe two grown adults were bickering. "There is no easy way to ask this of you, but I hope you take the time to consider it." He smiled sweetly, the skin of his right cheek denting slightly, and his eyes glowing bright blue under the awkward lighting of her kitchen. His face was so inviting and warm, almost like the drink in her hands. "There's a threat coming, a big one I assume. We need all hands on deck. I'm working on getting the Avengers back together, despite the process being slow and torturous, but a process nonetheless. If we have an extra hand, that would be one more advantage for us. That is, only if you want."

Addie sighed delicately, her eyes falling from Steve's inviting gaze to the bubbling beverage in her palms. There were many things that needed to be considered that made her furrow her brow and made the two men sitting before her inch closer. What was mostly causing her to sink deeply into thought was what would become of her after the adventure was over. So many questions jostled in her head. She wondered about the present and the future, and her home and her job. She had no friends, but she still had the vaguest of thoughts for Conrad. She had a thought for her parents in their isolated home up in the north.

"You want me to come with you?" she asked, tone so small she sounded fragile. She was a strong woman, a girl no one messed with, especially because of what she could do. Yet in that moment, under a flickering yellow-ish light of her kitchen, she felt like she was carrying the weight of the world on her shoulders.

"We're not forcing you to do anything," Steve murmured.

"You'll have to tell me everything," she said sternly.

"You'll be briefed."

She looked around at the tiny apartment that she had never felt was home, despite spending all her free time in researching and experimenting. She laughed internally when the hole in the wall came into thought, which made her realize these people _could_ help her. A year ago, she would have liked a lending hand, someone to work with and to understand her.

"The people that did this to me," she started in a low voice, her eyes finding Steve again, "they aren't good people."

"We know," he answered with a little nod, orbs finding his friend in front of him.

"My parents were afraid of them," the girl continued. "Do you think they'll come back for me?"

"I think they already have," he said. She wasn't surprised by his answer, not at all. Their simple presence at the library confirmed they were here for her, indeed to protect her.

"What do I have to pack?"

* * *

In a matter of two hours, she had gone from sitting on an uncomfortable chair in her kitchen with two national figures to sitting on a mushy SUV backseat with the said national figures in the front seats. Her heart was hammering in her chest so hard, she thought she would throw up all over the beautiful black leather seats. Her hands were sweaty despite her constant wiping on her jeans and the air conditioning.

Even though she had packed two bags full of her stuff and threw it in the trunk, Addie still couldn't believe she was turning her back on a potential normal life. She couldn't fathom the fact of joining a team of heroes and coming to terms with who she was, despite Captain fucking America giving her winks in the rear view mirror.

"How did you guys even pull off this car?" she asked, her head popping between the two front seats. They were driving out of the city towards the American border. "Did you steal it?"

"Try making Captain America steal anything," James grumbled rather non-comically. He was leaning on the door, the side of his head touching the tinted passenger window. He was looking straight ahead, anger and bitterness straining his features. Addison was coming to terms with the fact that anger and acerbity were common for him.

"It was given to us," Steve answered absentmindedly.

Addie frowned and was about to answer some typical gibberish for her when Steve took a turn off the main highway and onto a road that led to the outskirts of Montreal. "Why aren't we crossing the border?" she asked.

"You think our faces aren't on the top row of most wanted?" Steve rebuked, flashing a pearly white smile at her in the mirror. She snorted and rolled her eyes apathetically. "We have a private jet waiting for us in an hours drive. We will pass undetected through the border to join the others. Perks of once being part of the most fine point in technology organization."

"So take me once again through the divided teams?" she asked. She heard James groan silently before she sat back against her seat.

"First," Steve answered, "I don't consider them teams. Sides, rather."

"Skip the technicals," James groaned louder this time.

"The ones that didn't sign the Accords, my side, is composed of Bucky, Clint, Wanda, Scott, and Sam," he started, his hands gesturing along with his words. "Tony's side is Natasha, Rhodey, Vision, T'Challa, and this young boy I think is named Peter."

Addie hummed in response. She had heard about all of them in the papers, especially Wanda. She had searched up the girl because of their similar abilities. Addie wanted to understand and control her own enhancement, which Wanda provided a bit of help, but rather indirectly. "Hey, but what about hammer time and gamma radiation?" she asked, popping in between the front seats again. She saw James roll his eyes again and Steve just frowned.

"Who?" he asked, his lips staying in that innocent o-shaped form as he looked from James to the road to Addie.

"The guy with the big hammer and the big green boy," Addie grumbled as if what she was saying was so obvious.

"Thor and Bruce had other matters to attend," he answered slowly.

The ride was in silence, the radio playing different nuances from music to news to sports. The boys up front were quiet, eyes on the road ahead. Addie could see James' metallic arm as his palm was pressed flat against the arm chair of the seat. He had rolled up his sleeve to his mid forearm, and Addie saw the different metal plates that composed his limb. His fingers, almost too human-like to be real, flexed and relaxed as they reflected the light seeping in through the windshield.

James was an enigma, the brunette decided. Even though his face presented his inner turmoil through strain and repression, he was a puzzle and a riddle. Despite her severe lack of knowledge about him, she still felt like he was the colossal embodiment of mystery. From the stern look that was permanently plastered on his face, to his metal limb, and to the constant tenseness of his body; he was a secret.

Steve took a turn off the main highway and onto a less traveled boulevard. They spent the most time driving on that boulevard until the road became gravel and still they continued until the road was sand and still until the sun was setting on the horizon. So much for a "one hour drive".

When the sky was a cacophony of purple, orange, and grey, the SUV stopped in the middle of field under dark clouds and a coming rainstorm. Addie's heart was hammering in her chest as her round eyes searched the darkness for the jet. She watched as both James and Steve got out of the car, Steve heading for the opened trunk for her bags. She gulped down, her hands trembling as she reached for the door handle.

The door swung vehemently open, startling the brunette as she recoiled into the seat. James' face appeared against a backdrop of nuanced, pastel colors. He looked at her with eyes the color of the ocean at night, his charcoal hair glistening in the light of the rising moon. He had a look on his face that was between confusion and annoyance. "Coming?" he asked, the tone of his voice sharp.

"Yeah," she answered, breathless. He nodded pungently and watched her step out of the SUV, her boots crunching on the hot sand. She grabbed her bags from Steve and followed the boys as they walked away from the truck.

She looked back one last time, the outline of the vehicle disappearing in the darkness. Biting her lip, she tried to avoid the nagging thoughts of her mom's face and all the missed calls that would plague her cellphone for the next weeks. She knew she was leaving something behind, but she also knew what she was leaving behind was far from the life she had wanted.

"So," she said into the oncoming darkness, "where's this jet?" The two of them were walking way ahead of her, their broad figures outlined against the now dark blue and purple sky.

"Just ahead down in the valley," Steve answered.

They walked a little bit more until the land sloped and there the jet was, a massive assortment of metal, sitting in the cup of the valley. It was barely visible, and if Addie wasn't looking for a jet, she would never had noticed the impressive machine. Sleek black and lean, it sat on its many legs against the yellowed grass.

When they approached it, standing right under the belly of the plane, the machine looked like it was taking up the whole world. All her vision was encompassed by the impressive, never seen before beauty of black and silver metal. Just as the mouth of the jet opened and sat against the grass, Addie caught site of a name that made her frown. Stark.

"I thought you and Stark were in a fight!" she said over the low hum of the jet opening. Steve groaned loudly.

"It's not a _fight_ ," he growled. "And like I said; I am trying to reach out. And he is willing to accept a certain amount of connection. I needed a plane and so he lent me one."

"Me too my friends just lend me their planes," Addie grumbled sarcastically under her breath.

She followed the boys up into the plane and stood as it closed with a loud sharp sound. The interior of the plane was mostly cargo, nets, and crates with foreign writing. Metal walls and echoing was what mostly consisted of the airplane. Addie was impressed nonetheless, setting her bags in an empty crate and taking a seat for take off, as instructed by Steve.

"Who's driving?" she asked with false enthusiasm as Steve helped her tie herself up in the seat.

"Jarvis," he answered, pulling on the metal straps until she was securely in place. "Jarvis is an automatic system set up by Stark. And before you ask, we're going to land somewhere in Minnesota and from there, embark on another plane provided by one of my friends who used to work for SHIELD. Tony's plane is just for the sake of passing the border unnoticed."

Addie nodded and chanced a look to where James was buckling himself in, a stern frown knitting his brows. "Is he staying with us to wherever we are going?" she whispered to Steve. He leaned forward, hands on knees, and gave her a patronizing sly smirk.

"Addison," he said with a bit of humor in his tone, "give him a shot. He's not a cupcake the first time you meet him." She grumbled under her breath as Steve disappeared into the cockpit.

The silence between Addie and James was awkward as the plane rose to life. She tried to keep the stress and inner turmoil at bay, but the strained look on his face was making it harder for the girl to keep her sarcastic remarks to herself.

"I'm not going to steal Steve from you, you know," she blurted as she watched him frown and slowly turn to face her.

"What?" His voice was controlled, as if he was holding back so many vicious things he could bark at her.

"You act like I'm going to wedge myself between you and Cap," she answered, her eyes round. To James, she looked like a doe caught in headlights. Her cheeks her burning red, eyes round like saucers, lips parted because she was slightly breathless.

"Then stop acting like all of this is a joke."

She rolled her eyes and chose to ignore him, just like she chose to ignore the butterflies that were flinging around in her stomach.


	5. Chapter 4

**Sorry this took so long to update. I promised a weekly update but this took longer to write and I was supposed to update this morning, but my school WiFi decided to crash and so I couldn't edit until about 5 this evening and then supper, and yeah.**

 **But here it is. I hope you all enjoy it!**

 **Vampyre86** : **Heeey! Comment allez vous? Hahaha it is so rare to find a fellow french Canadian on this site. I'm happy you figured out my french turn of phrases that I tried desperately to translate into English! Laissez-moi vos commentaires en francais si cela est mieux pour vous! Enjoy this chapter and I hope to hear from you soon!**

Chapter four: Vaunting

Like Steve had mentioned, the plane landed somewhere in Minnesota, in an open field in the middle of the night. Addie, in a drunken-like state between sleep and wakefulness, stumbled along the sandy field behind the two men carrying her bags. They hurried onto another airplane, a much smaller and less impressive one than Stark's, and flew off. Addie drifted off to sleep once she was buckled in, her head pressed against the mushy side of the plane.

Addie was not aware of the landing, but as she woke up, she saw rays of early morning sunshine seeping in through he tiny window over James' head. The latter was staring off to the side, his chin jutted out in thought. The brunette took her time to finally look him over when he wasn't staring at her with a frown. He had changed sometime when she was asleep, which made her feel dirty in her old clothes. His long sleeve black shirt was exchanged for a round collar tee the color of blood, which displayed more of his metal arm and more skin of his flesh limb. What impressed her the most was how broad his chest was and the waves the tight shirt made over his biceps. She wondered where the metal met the skin and if the sight was gross or endearing.

His face had the same shadowy stubble as before, but it was darker from being neglected, which made the light blue of his orbs gleam. He was not a bad sight to take in, yet the attitude that steamed off of him was almost disgusting.

"Alright!" Cap exclaimed as he jumped down from the cockpit, a huge pearly white smile on his face. "Time to go."

They marched down off the plane, Cap and Addie carrying her bags and James walking ahead. They had landed on a private runway, a black tower looming in the distance. It was early morning, barely passed nine in the morning, but Addie felt the heat like a brick in the face. Her palms were so slippery with sweat she almost dropped her bag, and she felt like a huge blanket that weighed tons was dropped over her shoulders. When she looked ahead, the horizon was beginning to shimmer.

"Where exactly did we _land_?" she asked, squinting her eyes through the harsh rays of early morning. Steve laughed coarsely and looked at her with one eye closed.

"We are near the city of Dalhart, but we'll be staying in a nearby compound off the city limits," he answered with a side smirk, sweat gleaming on his nape. The sun was making his skin glow and shimmer in the harsh light of the sun.

"Hold on," Addie said, her mouth dry, "we landed in _Texas_?"

Steve chuckled, but held back any remarks. They walked off the runway, the heat of the oncoming day making the ground steam and glimmer. They were met with another SUV, a very disgruntled Bucky sitting in the drivers seat.

"Should he even be driving?" she asked Steve as they loaded her bags into the trunk.

"I have a metal arm, not a dysfunction!" Bucky yelled from up front.

They drove for a while, the dry planes of Texas scrolling passed Addie's new eyes. She was drawn to the colors; sandy brown and ocean blue and peach beige. The sky was clear, the sun a huge sphere of orange and yellow shining from right overhead. If it hadn't been for the air conditioning in the car, she would have been sweating bullets and rocks. When they drove through the city, a rather small one, she was glued to the window like Allie was to Noah in the Notebook. She was not used to Southern ways of living, having lived in Canada her whole life. Not only was she strongly unaccustomed to the heat but also to the cities. Everything was a bit smaller, squarer, and short. She could only imagine how unaccustomed she'd be to life in Texas.

"Addison?" Steve had been leaning against the window, but now he was turned around, looking at her from over Bucky's shoulder.

"Where are we going?" she asked in anticipation.

Steve smiled at her eagerness, the sadness that seemed to be perpetual dissipating into fondness. "We're about to arrive at the compound we're staying at," he answered. Addie nodded, her bottom lip trapped under her superior set of teeth. "I don't know who is going to be there, but I just wanted to let you know that they are uhm... eager to see you."

"You've told them about me?" she asked, her brows rising in surprise.

"You expected us to bring you home like a surprise on Christmas?" Bucky groaned sarcastically.

It is in Addie's nature to do unexpected things in unexpected circumstances. She is a girl who acts upon her emotions in the present. So when Bucky's sarcastic remark made her boil up from within, she propelled forward into the front seats and planted her butt onto Steve's thigh despite his astonishment and stared right at Bucky. The latter was struggling between keeping his burning blue eyes on the road and staring wide-eyed at the girl, who was looking at him with a tight, angered look on her sharp features.

"I recall signing up for help and to aid you in whatever you need in exchange for shelter, food, and training," she began, tight-lipped and anger steaming in the octaves of her voice, "but I _don't_ recall signing up for your attitude and your blatant disrespect, James."

The rest of the ride was in silence. They continued until mid-day, rolling over hills of sand and yellowed grass, passing through tiny towns and wooden shacks. The scenery rarely changed, only nuanced in colors like peach and brown. Addie was tired of all the plane and SUV rides, especially with someone who was as disrespectful as Bucky and then Steve who constantly looked at her as if she was about to die. There was something off about Captain America. Maybe it was the sad turn of his eyes or the way he subtly leaned in towards Bucky whenever he had the chance. He wasn't the man that the United States of America made him out to be; tough, emotionless, and rogue. He was quite the complete opposite.

They drove off the main highway (a one lane highway) and onto a rocky road that drove uphill until it reached a square building on top. Addison's heart reached her throat as she eyed the building; a two-story house that was probably ten times the size of her apartment in Montreal.

"We're safe here for the moment," Steve said over his shoulder. "No one will find us here unless we want them to."

They pulled up into the drive way, a paved, dark black entry that led into a garage. The door slid open graciously and opened up to a myriad of cars that Addie wish she could name. The inside of the garage was a sharp contrast to the outside world; sleek black vehicles, bright white walls, and cemented floor.

When all three got out of the SUV, the closing doors echoed in the space, making Addie even more aware of her surroundings. She could feel a sharp and rapid increase in electricity compared to the drive here. Her senses were being tugged, her vision blurring with the usual calls of her ability. She reached out, feeling as much power as she could, embracing the warmth that coursed through her veins.

"There should be a room available for you," Steve interrupted, her bags in his hands, a wide smile on his lips. Addie nodded and followed him up a few steps, the door already opened, Bucky completely out of sight.

They walked into a hall that led to a spacious living room, one wall completely composed of top to bottom windows with an epic view of the valley. Everything was in the same colors; grey, white, brown, and black. Grey sofas and lounge chairs, sleek black plasma TVs, sparkling glass tables, and impressively grand bookshelves filled to the brink with novels. Papers were scattered carelessly over the coffee tables and even some on the lazy-boys. The floor was covered in white marble, a grey, fuzzy carpet to keep feet warm splayed in front of the couches. The place was cozy, yet so starkly serious compared to the warm colors of her home. The lights overhead were sickly white, as if in a hospital.

Footsteps (high-heeled) sounded on the wooden floor of the passage way to their right. "Bucky's grumpy so I guess the new girl's here!"

A redhead appeared in the living room, a bright smile on her pink, plump lips. She was wearing dark blue jeans that hugged her perfect curves and a black long sleeved, round collar shirt that slimmed her waist even more. Her bright, fire red hair was in contrast to her pale, porcelain flesh and her daring blue eyes. She wore a golden pendant around her neck, a green gem resting between her breasts.

She gave Addie a sideways smirk, a devilish look overcoming her features. "Hey there, sweet bird." Her voice was raspy, seductive. It gave Addie shivers in its lascivious octaves and dark, sensual undertones. That woman was made to make men swoon and tremble.

"Addison," Steve said with a laugh, putting a large palm on Addie's shoulder, "meet Natasha Romanoff."

Addison had heard, and mostly seen, the assassin at work. When aliens had taken over New York, Addison had caught herself being curious of the hot redhead with deadly abilities. She was impressive on screen, when she came out of a UN meeting or when she fought against the Winter Soldier, but she was even more impressive in person. She was not a tall woman, but her presence and the way she stared at you was bigger than anyone and anything. She took up the space with her beauty, the fierce and untouchable look in her eyes, and her personality.

"Enchanté," Nat said with a smirk. Addie was at a lost of words, her throat dry, the palm of her hands sweaty. She was standing in a superhero compound in front of one of the deadliest ex KGB assassins.

All of a sudden, the truth of what was _really_ happening fell upon her and she was lost, mind blurry and thoughts scrambled.

"She's shy," Nat laughed, a wide smile illuminating her face.

"I'm just uh, it's just very...very impressive?" she stammered, her statement ending as a question, the squeak in her voice evidence of her nervousness. Nat and Steve shared a laugh, something that sounded familiar for them.

"C'mon," Steve said, pushing her slightly, his fingertips on her lower back. "I'll show you where you'll be sleeping."

Nat followed behind them, her heels clicking on the wooden floor. The passageway was narrow, with closed doors up and down the length of the hall, the end opening up into a star-light kitchen and dining room.

"Wanda and Sam stay in these rooms," Steve mentioned as they passed by some closed doors in the hall. "The rest are storage or empty rooms."

"I sleep upstairs," Nat chimed in.

They walked through the bright kitchen, white everything from counter tops to the dining room to the little bar by the piano and windows. A white, marble fireplace was lit, a burning red fire warming up the stark, porcelain kitchen.

"Most of our dealings happen in here," Steve said, gesturing to the fourteen seat dining table. He steered her towards spiraling steps and beyond that, a short hall that led to metal double doors. "Behind those doors is our precious gym, where everyone spends their time besides the computer rooms."

Addie nodded, her eyes round and wide as she took in all the new information. Her heart was in her throat, beating hard against her chest. She had trouble breathing, trouble getting to terms with was happening.

"Upstairs, you'll find your room," Steve said, stepping away from her. He was looking as if he wanted to give her space, privacy.

"How did you guys even get this place?" she asked breathlessly, looking up to where the ceiling opened up over the kitchen, and where she was able to see the start of the upstairs hallway.

"Even though Tony isn't very fond of Cap, he isn't going to let him and the rest of us be homeless," Nat answered, her heels scraping the marble floor as she walked slowly beside Addie, arms over her chest. "As long as we stay on our side of the playground, he doesn't bother us."

"Weren't you on his side for the Accords?" Addie asked, brows furrowed as she turned her attention to the redhead. Nat had a playful smirk on her lips, a look of deviousness in her blue orbs.

"I don't believe in sides." She looked at Steve with round, blue eyes and chuckled. "I'm all for a united front."

Upstairs, Addie found a very square and grey room that was meant for her. Steve said that he, along with Nat, Bucky, and Clint were just down the hall. The room for her was simple; a double bed with grey, feather sheets and white pillows, a wardrobe the color of dark chocolate, and a small, glass desk with a leather chair for her comfort and privacy. A door beside her wardrobe led to a bathroom that she shared with Nat and Clint. Steve emphasized group life, a way of living that would strengthen the bonds between them all.

"So what do you call yourself?" a playful, unfamiliar voice sounded behind her as she was unpacking her bags.

A man was leaning in her doorway, arms crossed over his chest. His ebony skin worked in wonders with his jet black hair and chocolate eyes, in contrast with his pearly white teeth. Another man with a rough stubble on his chin and playful green eyes was lingering behind the first one.

"Sorry?" she said, her brows furrowing as she tried to determine just who these men were.

"Do you call yourself, like, Elektra?" the second one asked, making the first one laugh.

"That name has actually already been trademarked," Addie answered. "So it's just Addison for now."

"I'm Sam," the one with a dark complexion said, a big, inviting smile illuminating his features. "And this dumbass is Scott."

Addie smiled and nodded, acknowledging their presence. "Nice to meet you."

"Now come one," Sam exclaimed suddenly. "Let's get started."

"What?"

"You don't expect to have it easy here, right?" Sam asked, feigning seriousness.

"Yeah, because we burn down Applebee's and rob corner stores every now and again so we need to stay in shape," Scott said, sarcasm dripping off his tongue like honey. Addie smiled devilishly. Oh, she was going to like these guys.

* * *

They were not easy with her. As soon as she entered the gym, she was taken in the hands of the most highly trained humans on Earth. They didn't treat her like a child and pushed her until she was lying broken on the mat. They didn't treat her like an outsider so they surely wouldn't treat her like a doe in the training room. Since day one, they put her in the gym, a room bigger than the house itself, and put her through various, rigorous tests. She was left bruised and bloody and sweaty, tired to the point that she didn't enjoy life after her hours of training. They pushed her to the brink, until she broke and demanded a break. She was left sore the next day, ripped from breakfast to participate in the many training sets she was told she had to do. It was part of being an Avenger.

Natasha took care of most of Addie's training. Being an ex KGB agent with excessive background in almost every form of combat, she was very well placed to teach the girl. Nat had the brunette do cardio and muscular training before anything, insisting she had to have at least a basis of work out. Addison's first week of living at the compound was spent in the gym, running on treadmills and following Nat's specific muscular training program. After each day, she was trembling and wincing whenever she had to move, her muscles jelly under her bruised flesh. Even though it had only been eight days, she had seen a difference in her endurance.

In the second week, Nat decided it was time to show Addison technique. The ex KGB agent said that since Addie got in the game so late, it would be difficult for her to catch up to a born assassin like Nat. But if Wanda had done it, so could Addie.

She had been thrown to the ground so many times she lost count. She almost anticipated every time she'd be kicked or vaulted to the mat. For weeks on end she tried her best to throw Nat or Wanda and even Sam to the ground, but they had been trained so much more than she had.

She decided she would not see it as defeat, but as more of a challenge. Steve mentioned that she needed to control her body, learn to fight and protect herself, before she could train with her electricity.

Over the course of her training, she became close with everyone there. Wanda and her, being of the same age, had gotten closer. She became the only close friend Addie ever had. They shared their secrets and their pasts. There was nothing to hide, no one to fear, and as alike as they were, it was like fitting two broken puzzle pieces together.

With Nat and Steve, the relationship was almost like brother and sister; protective, pushing, and demanding. Nat wanted Addie to be the best she could be whether it be intellectually or physically. Steve wanted to keep Addie from any harm, keep her safe from HYDRA. He spent hours at night with her, mostly out of her own curiosity, briefing her on HYDRA and his experience with the demoniac association.

Sam and Scott were like two big, bear brothers that goofed around all the time and made her training a little bit lighter with their jokes. They hung around the kitchen, their noses in books, or fooled around in the gym, throwing each other on the ground.

Despite Addie having spent six weeks already at the compound, she could feel the palpable _history_ in the group. They all seemed to have this bond; a bond that glued them together inexplicably. They all subtly leaned in towards each other, eyes always searching each other's faces for any danger or pain, and they all touched each other in the most gentle of ways. They have all lived through the most horrid experiences that have created a team of devoted heroes, but also pained humans who relied on each other. And Addie was far from being as connected to them as she would like.

And for six weeks, Bucky completely ignored her. He cast her aside as if she didn't even exist. Whenever he'd find herself in the same room as her, he'd vanish so fast and quietly, it's as if he wasn't even there to begin with. When she'd walked into the kitchen one morning, the sun shining brightly from the windows, and found Steve and Bucky leaned over a bunch of papers, he had looked up abruptly. He'd gathered his papers and said "I got things to do now." He would always grumble or groan whenever she talked, which proved to be unpleasant and embarrassing for her.

There was clearly nothing she could do to gain his friendship and trust. He was a stone wall, hiding behind a mask, looking at her with those cold, cold blue eyes.

* * *

 **I know this time skip can seem pointless, but it was needed in this chapter. So basically she spends six weeks at the compound and becomes closer with them all, except obviously, Bucky. I like to think that they are all inviting, like Steve took Wanda in, he would be extremely happy to help Addie. He also wants to protect her.**

 **I like the idea of Sam and Scott being goof balls together.**

 **Addie's new nickname is Bird, a concept introduced by Nat in this chapter. I like the symbolism of it too; a bird can either be caged or free, and that is up to you to determine what Addison is.**

 **More Bucky and more action in the upcoming chapters. All characters and motion has been set up, so from now on the story will move on.**

 **I hope you enjoyed, thank you for reading. See you next chapter!**

 **JJ**


	6. Chapter 5

**I'm seriously neglecting my studies because this story is taking over my life. Early update because I will not be writing anything this weekend. I have assignments and essays to prepare and finish, so I won't be around. I will definitely update sometime next week.**

 **More Bucky in this chapter as promised.**

 **Thanks to all who followed and favorited! Means a lot.**

KittyBear98: **Thank you! I hope you enjoy and give some feedback!**

Chapter five: Esoteric

Training with Nat proved to be wrecking in all the senses of the word. She pushed Addie until the latter was completely and utterly demolished. Every morning, Addison woke up with a new onset of the day. She tried to think positively of all the sore and bruised parts of her body; it meant she was getting stronger. Six weeks of constant and brusque training would surely have toughened her up. She ate a balanced breakfast and decided caffeine should be replaced by water. A balanced and healthy diet was as good as a robust training program, according to Nat. After her breakfast, she spent two hours with Clint and Steve on the computers, researching and discussing ever variable that they knew about HYDRA. She was incredibly immersed in all aspects of HYDRA; just how long it had been around, who it had targeted, the weird situations it had dabbled in, and so much more horrible circumstances they had taken part in. With Clint and Steve, she deciphered, learned, and planned what they must have been thinking or trying to do now. The return of Loki with a HYDRA insignia on his sleeve had raised many questions.

"If he wanted me, wouldn't he have found us here?" she asked one morning, her head bent over a package of papers. Her eyes were tired from a restless sleep plagued by nightmares of a certain Soldier strangling her.

"Loki had one intention in this world, Bird," Clint started, his voice dismissive as he spun around on the rolling chair to face the brunette. "He wanted to conquer. He wanted all the power from the Tesseract and to rule as a dictator. We cast him out with a warning that if he ever return, his head would be on a pike."

"I don't believe we went to _those_ lengths of threatening," Steve said with a paternal tone. "But Barton is right. He wanted to conquer. If he had targeted you, he would have you by now."

A shiver sliced through Addie's spine as she returned slowly to her papers.

Her mornings were always like that. Steve and his patronizing, protective attitude, and Clint with his seriousness and intellect. They mingled well together; a perfect brain team. She loved to sit with them, listen and observe how the professionals did the work. She learned more by watching and listening to their conversations than she did by trying to find information on HYDRA by herself.

Once Nat was up and about, she came to find Addie and brought her to the gym. There, she was broken and mangled and thrown to the ground.

"Come on, Bird, we've done this countless of times," Nat said, looking at the brunette from under thick black lashes. Sweat coated her red hairline, her damp hair sticking to the sides of her pale face. She was wearing black yoga pants that accentuated the curve of her hips and a dark red Under Armor sweatshirt. Nat looked good in whatever she was wearing, doing anything.

"And you've done this since 1984," Addie answered, breathless, her pony tail damp, her face red from the strain.

They had been scuffling since ten in the morning, going through different take downs and self defense techniques. Nat taught the brunette how to use her fingers, her elbows, her knees. She taught her how to counter any attack and how to get out of compromising, lethal positions. One thing that stuck to Addie was how to counter a strangling, especially because her nights had been plagued with epidemic nightmares of a metal hand wrapping around her throat.

The gym was almost full that morning. Wanda and Sam were scuffling on their own, trying out techniques they had seen from a Japanese fight video on YouTube. Scott and Clint were on the treadmill after having spent a considerable amount of time on the weights. And Steve was at the punching bag; his usual destination for rough mornings.

The only missing asset to what Steve wanted to desperately call a team was Bucky. He was rarely around; a distant entity that appeared for food and bedtime, disappeared to the shooting range, and barely exchanged words with anybody besides Steve.

Addie's thoughts were interrupted by Nat swiping her right foot out and knocking out the brunette's ankles. The latter fell harshly on her side with a grunt, her face scrunching up in pain. Her shoulder was throbbing, her ribs aching badly from the day before.

"That sounded like it hurt, Bird!" Wanda shouted from across the gym. When Addie looked to where she was scrimmaging, Wanda was mindlessly hopping around Sam, throwing punches and kicks here and there while the latter tried to catch her in a compromising hold. Addie sighed in desperation. Everyone seemed to mindlessly and effortlessly fight like Gods and Goddesses. They could laugh and joke and talk while performing the craziest stunts.

"Stop letting your head get in the way of what your body wants to do," Nat said quietly as she reached down and helped the girl to her feet. The two women stared at each other, dark blue examining chocolate brown. "You're too much in your head."

"I need to think about-"

"No, we've been through this already," Nat interrupted. She gave the brunette a sharp, almost cruel and annoyed look as she held the girl by the back of the neck. "These need to become automatic, like an instinct." Rapidly, Nat pulled Addie down by the neck. The girl saw the move coming. She saw Nat's knee coming for her nose and her elbows went up in an X formation to block the blow. Nat tried to knee three times, Addie blocking her blows with her forearms like she was taught to do.

Suddenly, Addie was yanked up and had just the time to see Nat slightly turn before she tried to jam an elbow to the brunette's jaw. Addie's left hand came up, grabbed Nat's elbow, turned so her back was facing Nat. She was about to yank the redhead over her shoulder when she felt pain in her back and she tumbled to the ground, Nat's knee having done the job in rendering her useless again. "You need to stop thinking about how you're going to defend yourself," Nat grumbled as she grabbed the other girl by the pony tail. "You need to leave your mind and let your body perform the greatness I have taught you."

Addie twisted until she was facing Nat, kneeling. She jerked forwards, wrapping her arms around the redhead's waist and slamming her quite loudly on the ground. Nat was quick in using her legs and her arms to disentangle herself and smack Addie in the back of the head as both got to their feet. "You're slow again. Better than before, but still slow."

"I'll never get better, Jesus fuck," Addie breathed as she brought her fists to protect her face. She dodged blow after blow, kick after kick like she was taught, even managing to get a punch or two in.

"If you think that way, then you'll never get better."

They continued fighting, learning techniques, trying them out. Addie continued until she physically couldn't stand on her feet anymore, falling on the ground, her clothes soaked. Her legs felt like they weighed tons, her muscles jelly, weak, and bruised under her sticky flesh. Every joint in her body, her ankles and wrists mostly, were burning from the strain she insisted on exerting on them. Her whole body was blazing with an uncomfortable fire, a fire lit from excessive and stubborn strain.

Nat laughed when the girl was visibly destroyed on the floor, lying down like a starfish at the bottom of the ocean. "Hey, Bird," Nat said slowly, her raspy tone resonating in Addie's ears. "I hope you don't get mad at me."

"What did you do?" Addie asked breathless. "Did you put your colored clothes with my white ones in the washing machine again?"

"No," Nat laughed. "I'm leaving for a while."

"What do you mean?" Addie pushed herself onto her elbows, her sweaty face scrunched into a frown.

Nat sighed and gave the girl a side glance, her plump lips pulling into a sorrowful smile. "I have to be somewhere else," she said. "I won't be here anymore. For a while at least."

Addie remained speechless for a second, before remembering that Natasha had a life outside hiding in a compound and teaching fighting lessons. "You're going back to Tony?" she asked, sitting up completely. Nat nodded slowly, her jade-colored eyes looking down, unsure, at the brunette. "I get that," the latter said, nodding as if she was trying to convince herself that everything would be all right.

"You'll have Steve and Clint and even the two goof balls over there to help you," the redhead continued, gesturing to where Scott and Sam were. "Besides, you're not so bad after all." She kicked Addie in the ankle ever so gently. The two shared a laugh.

"You think Tony has other ideas about HYDRA and Loki?" Addie asked in a more serious note.

"I think Tony knows a lot of things that could helps us," Nat answered. "He's got the biggest circle of acquaintances and so I do believe he can add to what we already know."

Addie got to her feet with pain and misery, wincing as she felt all her muscles and joints screaming against the strain. Once she stood facing the small redhead, she stuck her hand out. "Well, it was incredible working with you."

Nat smirked, but nonetheless shook the other woman's hand. "Yes it was."

Addie turned and made her way out of the gym, a hot shower and relaxation in mind. "Hey Bird!" Nat called, making the brunette turn on her heels. "You should go see Bucky. He's very well placed if not the best to teach you."

Addie's mouth twisted in an annoyed growl. That man had treated her like gum under his shoe since the day he met her. He had not given her place for improvement and had cast aside all her attempts to be polite and friendly with him. She had no intentions in her right mind to ask that man for help.

"You think he'd help me?" she asked.

"I think he would, yeah."

The brunette turned her back and walked away, a strange feeling coursing through her veins.

* * *

The next morning, Nat's absence made every aspect of Addie's life different. Steve and Clint were grumpy because the redhead had left to return on her "rightful side of the Accords." She left their morning discussions early that morning to visit the gym. She was wearing black yoga pants and a long blue t-shirt, her dark locks tied in a messy knot atop her head. She started on the treadmill, then ended on the punching bag. As the morning rolled on, Wanda and Scott joined the gym. Around noon, Sam was running on the treadmill. When Addie was taking a break from the punching bag, Clint and Steve walked in, ready to work out.

There was not much she could do on her own. She was so used to Nat being there beside her, whispering and encouraging her, showing her the details of a fight. Standing there alone, facing the punching bag, she felt useless. She was not a pro or a fine ex KGB agent. Facing a new problem, all she would do was use her already known techniques.

She sighed in defeat, hitting the punching bag slightly with her gloved hand.

"Someone's grumpy."

Clint leaned against the bag, a smirk on his lips. He was wearing his black combat suit, his arrows and bow the only missing aspects.

"I'm not grumpy," the girl answered halfheartedly. Clint had been close enough with the girl to know when she was experiencing trouble. They had spent so much time together in the passed six weeks that he could detect the slightest change in her mood. Given, he was also a super star in human behavior, thus giving him an advantage over everyone else in deciphering the girl's emotions.

"Nat left, I know it sucks," he started, leaning in so the girl could not avoid his eyes. "But that doesn't mean you're rendered useless."

"I just..." she sighed, shrugging vehemently. "We had this thing going. A routine. She knew how hard I had to be pushed to learn. I know I've learned a lot, but she left too soon. What I am going to do?"

"I'll help," came the voice of a very familiar female. Wanda sauntered by on her way to the machines, her long hair in a high pony tail, a wide smile on her face. She feigned a fighting position and said "we will train together. No one gets left behind here." There was still the slightest hint of her Sokovian accent under her well learnt English.

Addie laughed, but her spirits seemed to be lifting as she watched Wanda skip away with a huge, inviting smile.

* * *

The clouds were grey, lightning striking the ground every now and again. Addison's ability was struggling to stay quiet, her veins buzzing and swirling with power every time the sky lit up with electricity. She was hearing the whispers and sighs of her ability; the subtle tugging of her enhancement calling to her, begging to be released. The blood curling in her veins, intertwined with electricity, hummed in her ears and sliced down her spine. Her head was a pool of struggle between staying in control and letting the bolts take over.

"You need to dampen your thoughts until all you see if the tip of that arrow."

The wind swept in her hair, brushing it against her cheeks. A shock passed alongside her jaw, the blue bolts illuminating the side of her face for an instant. She was slowly losing it. Above, the sky was screeching with thunder and lightning. Inside, she was a cacophony of sparks and tension.

"Breathe in, breathe out."

Her breath was mingled with tiny little lightning bolts. She struggled to keep the sky's calling at bay, but the more the lightning came, the more her skin pin prickled with the _need_ to explode. Her fingertips started to itch, the string against them adding to the dull ache.

"Stay focused. Don't let everything else become the center of you."

The bow she was holding was starting to smolder where she was clamping it with her right hand. Her palms were alight with a fire generated by the electricity running under her skin. She stared at the target up ahead, her muscles straining. She tried so desperately to ignore the crackling of the sky and the burning of her fingertips. The bow, although made from the toughest material around, was melting under her palm, the string becoming loser and loser.

"I can't," she sighed suddenly, turning to face Clint standing behind her with arms crossed over his chest. He was wearing a black hoodie, the hood pulled over his head, his light brown hair sticking out from all angles.

"The only reason why you can't is because you burnt your hand print into the bow," he answered, raising a brow.

"You brought me out here at the worst possible time for me!" she almost yelled as the sky was torn by lightning and the screeching of thunder. Clint rolled his eyes as he uncrossed his arms and slowly made his way towards her. He was scowling like an older brother would when he needs to correct his sibling's mistake.

"You think Wanda doesn't have it hard?" he asked, his voice wavering between anger and patronizing. "Every time, every day, she feels _everything_ around her. Not only that but she also feels every _one_." He sighed loudly as he leaned in so she couldn't avoid his enigmatic glare. "Tony has to hold his team together even though he knows Steve's best friend killed his parents. Hell, everyone on this Earth has a daily struggle."

She felt her heart battering against her chest bone. _Bucky killed Tony's parents?_

Her eyes roamed to where the Winter Soldier was shooting an automatic weapon, up on the hill in the shooting range. His back was to her, his hair in the wind. From up a top the small hill, he was a tiny dot against the grey clouds. He was not menacing in any way, yet with her new found knowledge, he was slowly becoming more and more threatening.

"What I'm trying to say," Clint continued, "is that everyone finds a way to surpass their struggles. You can do it too." Her mind was still chaotic with thoughts of Bucky. She knew he was a dangerous man, hell, one of the most dangerous men alive. She knew his kill list was in the hundreds and she knew he'd dabbled in the worst criminal doings. Yet she couldn't imagine him killing Tony's parents. She couldn't imagine him hurting someone on purpose; for the fun of it.

She sighed in defeat. Clint took the bow and arrow away from her as she tugged her hood over her head. The rain was coming soon. The air was humid and she felt the electricity in the air getting stronger. "We should head in anyway," Clint said mindlessly.

They climbed up the hill, the wind at their backs. Addie had a heavy feeling in her heart that she was discovering things about the Avengers that were not as pure as she had thought. They were all broken people with heavy pasts. The media made them out to be selfless, kindhearted goodie two shoes. They were portrayed as almost being God-like, untouchable, until the events in Wakanda reduced them to criminal scum, thus rendering their image to ashes. But they were nonetheless untouchable, standing on pedestals higher than the Empire State.

Clint and Addie passed by Bucky, who was enthralled in his gun, shoulders cupped, eyes lined with his target. She found herself hesitating by him, her eyes finding his metal arm visible under a white tee. Her eyes wondered to the metal fingers, clutched around the length of the weapon. A shiver passed through her body as she finally got to terms that he was once a murderer, a machine of some sort. His hands, metal or human, were covered in blood.

"If you really want to hurt someone," he said carelessly, bringing the girl's attention to him, "you should learn to shoot a gun not a bow."

Addie's lips parted in surprise. He never, _never,_ spoke to her directly since she moved in six weeks ago. He barely let his eyes rest on her for half a second, let alone excuse himself whenever he'd mindlessly bump into her around the compound. She was nothing to him, a ghost that he ignored and cast aside. It seemed, for the longest time, that he was purposely trying to humiliate or disregard her. Yet now he was directly giving her advice.

"What?"

"A bow is just as deadly as a gun when you know how to use it," Clint defended. He stood beside Addie, who was staring wide eyed and flushed at the soldier.

Bucky let the gun tip downward before he turned his burning blue gaze to where the pair was standing a couple feet away. His eyes met Addie's for a split second, a strong allure of annoyance in his pupils. His jaw twitched, a muscle in his neck straining. "I'll let you fight me with your bow against my guns and we'll see who comes out alive."

Addie's hands shook as she recalled, just moments ago, how Clint had mentioned Bucky killing Iron Man's parents.

"While you recharge your ammo I'll stick one up your ass, metal boy," Clint growled. Bucky was not fazed, his eyes glazed as he sighed and brought his gaze back to Addie.

"Listen," he said, "if you really want to broaden your training, pick up a gun." He was staring at her almost expectantly, as if he was waiting for her to drop Clint and agree to everything Bucky said.

"You barely talk to me and now you're _advising_ me?" she asked almost bewilderingly. His face shifted a little, as if he was biting the insides of his cheeks. His fist, the human flesh one, flexed and balled up as he continued to stare deeper into her soul. Electricity crawled along her neck and she was self conscious about it, afraid that he would see it. The lightning slicing the sky was making the power within her come into contact with her skin.

"You should learn how to shoot a gun, that's all I'm saying," he grunted back, his eyes flicking from Clint to Addie. "Everyone here has their own weapon; Steve has his shield, Wanda her telekinesis, Clint his arrows. But they all know how to handle a gun amazingly."

She was about to answer something stupid before Clint interrupted. "Magnet here might have a point," he grumbled. Addie looked suddenly at him with a shocked expression, torn between being disappointed and shook. "You need to learn how to manage a weapon. At least, the basis."

She was in no way getting close to Bucky. He kept her at an arms distance, humiliated her in front of world icons, and treated her as if she didn't belong. Despite everyone else making her feel at home, _he_ managed to keep her up at night, constantly wondering if she _did_ really belong. Whenever he was around, she trembled like a leaf in the wind and her head was a turmoil of racing thoughts. She always felt on edge, as if prepared to run, when she was in the same room as him. There was also a sour, heavy feeling in her chest when she was encouraged to voice her opinion when Bucky stood in the room. He intimidated and scared her to a point that she didn't even understand anymore how she felt. She wanted to ignore his disregard of her, but every time he stormed out of a room or condoned her opinion with a roll of his eyes, she felt belittled.

"I could learn it with you," she said, jutting her chin towards Clint, the tips of her ears turning red because she thought she was finally giving Bucky a little taste of his own medicine.

"No one here is better placed to teach you than a retired HYDRA asset," Clint grunted, his eyes finding Bucky with fire and challenge.

"No I could-"

"Would you rather a bird teaches you weapons than a soldier trained by the Russians?" Bucky spoke harshly over her, taking a step forward, his fingertips twitching.

"That was a low blow," Clint sighed in annoyance.

"Listen, James-"

" _Bucky_."

"I don't think it's a good idea," she answered, her jaw twitching in anger because he interrupted her. The only form of control she had over him was calling him by his birth name and not the nickname he insisted she call him.

"Are you scared, Bird?" Clint laughed, looking at her in the most innocen, happy face. He was unaware of how intimidated she was.

"No but-"

"Then I don't see the problem," he stepped in, leaning in like a father would while patronizing a child. "You need to learn to shoot a weapon. Most of us are busy, except for Sir Metal over here who seems to never have anything important on his to-do list." He smiled sweetly, the wrinkles alongside his eyes creasing his flesh. He was endearingly growing old.

She sighed.

"Seven tomorrow morning," Bucky grumbled, returning to his previous stance; gun tucked against his shoulder and eyes on the target.

She walked away ahead of Clint, the harsh wind blowing against the hood of her jacket and exposing her dark curls. She was angry at herself mostly, to have given in so easily. She had thought up so many times where she stood up to Bucky, giving him a piece of her mind. She imagined herself being harsh and callous, to give him back all those weeks of rudeness. Yet when she was finally faced with a chance to stick it to him, she flushed and stammered and stuttered, unable to correctly defend herself.

She slammed the door once she was inside, headed for her room, her cheeks red with anger. _Stupid, stupid, stupid!_ she thought. He ate up too much space that she was thrown off balance, rendered to a stuttering mess. _You're weak!_

Somewhere, she heard, and felt, the tiny explosions of kitchen appliances.

He was going to destroy her. All the work she had done, the past year and the past six weeks, to build herself up strong like bricks, would be crushed by Bucky. He would take all the courage and fight in her and throw it to the wolves. He would mock, embarrass, and push her until she would bend under those scorching blue orbs. He would tests the limits until he could find a crevice to wedge himself in, and then he would break her like a toy.

 **Clint is a dad so I have no problem imagining him being patronizing and fatherly around the compound.**

 **This is probably the most words Bucky is every going to say in his life.**

 **Thank you for reading. I will try my best to update sometime next week. Have a good weekend!**


	7. Chapter 6

**Hola amigos. I would like to thank those who followed and favorited the story.**

 **This chapter is very long and I realllllyyy love it. A lot of Bucky\Addie (Baddie?) action and some mysteriousness so enjoy.**

 **Nescience means lack of knowledge or ignorance. Applies to this chapter**

Chapter six: Nescience

At seven the next morning, Addie was standing on the hill facing the valley where the shooting range was. The horizon was orange, a sweet glow of sunshine sweeping across her eyes. The wind brushed through her lose strands of hair, sweeping it gently over her shoulders. The air was humid, heavy with the remnants of last night's rainstorm. Addie felt through the thin layer of skin, the weak bolts of electricity still lingering in the air. A sheer layer of mist settled over her shoulders and on the top of her hair, the cool air making her breath steam out of her mouth.

Bucky watched from the living room window, his movements stopped as he was caught off guard by the sight of the girl on the hill. His hand was outstretched for the door knob, fingers flexed as his eyes found the little black dot that was Addison. She was pacing back and forth, her dark green hoodie pulled over her dark locks. She was fidgeting with the hem of her sleeve, her bottom lip caught under her teeth. Whenever she'd pace facing him, he'd get a glance of the worried look in her honey-colored eyes. His shoulders tensed when her eyes searched for him, going from the house to the shed and back, but never seeing him through the window. He was a born assassin, the techniques of stealth inbred in him.

He couldn't shake the feeling that _he knew her._

The red and orange glow of the rising sun was casting a beautiful brilliance on her flesh. As Bucky stepped outside into the morning air, he took a minute to breathe in the humidity and roll his shoulders back. He had chosen a dark red hoodie that was way too small for him and grey sweatpants, which quickly got soaked at the hem because of the wet grass. When he glanced up at her, she was dressed better than he was, _and_ she wasn't wearing a shirt too small for her. With her dark green hoodie, she had black jeans with holes at her knees and her little black boots were laced sharply up her ankles.

He made his way slowly up the little hill, a breeze lifting his hair up and out of his eyes. When her eyes landed on him, the beating of her heart took a dangerous road and sped until her breastbone was sore. She could feel her pulse in her throat.

His face was torn between anger and disappointment. He hadn't wanted or expected her to show up.

"You showed up," she said, a bit breathless. "Late." She saw him flex his hands into fists and the level of electricity slowly increased.

"Shut up," he growled. He barely made eye contact with her, his caustic blue eyes wandering from the shed to the range to the grass. She was squirming, he could feel it. She went from foot to foot, her fingers digging in the skin of her palms.

"Stop squirming," he said, his voice laced with acrimony. His brows were furrowed, his jaw taunt. He didn't like it when she was squirming and scared and her eyes round and glossy. She stopped and stared at him with those doe round eyes of hers, her heart-shaped lips parted in question, thick eyebrows pulled into a tight frown.

Abruptly, as if someone kicked him in the ass, he breezed by her and marched his way to the little shed where they stored all the weapons. He heard her small feet trying to catch up behind him, the grass _whooshing_ under his own shoes.

"What are we doing?" she asked, her voice trembling as the slop of the hill declined.

"Getting the guns," he grumbled, his hand finding the lock of the shed door, effortlessly unlocking it and opening the door quite roughly. He stepped inside the dark room, his eyes adjusting immediately to the darkness.

"Oh, we're getting the guns right away," she said timidly, her voice barely above a whisper. When he looked over his shoulder, he caught sight of her face; flesh and hair humid, eyes wide as she searched the darkness. He doubted she could see him all the way in the back, so he took a little more time in examining the curve of her jaw and the way her lips were perked in interest, bolts of electricity coursing along her neck; evidence of her need for more control.

"You're here to shoot guns or not?" he growled as he picked a duffel bag and started filling it with boxes of ammo. He heard her huff.

"Yeah, it's just I wasn't expecting you to jump right into it."

He bit the insides of his cheeks as he caught sight of her face again, the planes of her cheekbones stirring memories within him that were just out of reach.

"Well we are."

He heard something fall and when he twist around in the dark, he saw her biting on her bottom lip, her right hand holding the left one in a painful manner. She had touched something and it had fallen on her hand.

"It's just Nat didn't throw me into training, like she started by-"

"Well forget about Nat," he interrupted abruptly, slinging the ammo-filled bag and picked up two automatic weapons. She was looking lost, a bit of her wet hair sticking to the side of her face.

"Don't you think we sho-"

His metal arm reached out before his mind could register what he was doing and he was holding her tiny bicep in his hand, his face inches from hers. Her eyes, from up close, were a mixture of hazelnut and honey.

"Do you want to learn guns or not, _Addison_?" he growled, her name flowing off his tongue fluently. She stared back at him, building up her confidence, but she was blank when he looked at her like she was meat and he a lion.

He let go of her bicep, the sting on her flesh evidence that there would be marks of his fingers soon enough. She followed him once again as they left the shed and walked up the hill. She noticed for the first time that his shoulders were too wide for the hoodie he was wearing, the fabric straining against his flesh as he swung his shoulders front to back as he walked.

When they got to the peak, he handed her one of the weapons that was easily thicker than her own bicep and heavier than herself all together. She held it like that, arm outstretched, weapon hanging vertically, her eyes round as she stared at the man who was absentmindedly refilling his ammo. When he was done, he hit the underside of the weapon and found her standing just like he had left her, her mouth parted and brows furrowed.

"You've never held a weapon before?" he asked.

She looked at him with a look that suggested he should know better. "It's not like I shoot people on a daily basis, James." She saw him tense, his shoulders meeting his ears at the use of his name.

He rolled his eyes and stood beside her, gesturing the weapon in his arms and the way he was carrying it. "Hold it like me," he ordered. "Tucked against your shoulder. Right or left handed?"

"Left."

"So hold it like this." Once his fingertips made contact with her skin, he saw the tiny thousands of electricity bolts scurrying under her flesh like little blue rivers. She cradled the gun against her left shoulder, her left hand under the barrel,her right one near the tip of it. "That's nice," he said lowly. He pointed to the scope attached to the top of the weapon. "Now look through here until you see the target at the bottom of the hill over there."

She bent over slightly to line up her eye with the scope. "Oh this is cool," she muttered.

"Don't stick out your hips like that," he mentioned and she felt him circling her like she was prey. She felt his scorching gaze on her every move. "Don't hunch over too much." She re-adjusted her position according to his comments, her eye still lined up with the scope.

The target was wavering in the scope, her trembling hands the cause. She struggled lightly with leveling the center of the cross in the scope with the target. Her finger hovered over the trigger.

"Don't pull the trigger. You're still standing like an idiot," he growled from behind her. She sighed in defeat as she dropped the gun and looked over her shoulder. He stood with his legs shoulder width apart and his arms crossed over his chest, the weapon hanging from his shoulder.

"I did everything you said," she answered in the most innocent tone he'd ever heard. His ears pricked with reconnaissance but he pushed the feeling as far away as possible. She was looking at him so expectantly, like she was depending on him. She looked so small, a speck of darkness against the now pink and orange sky, her hair caught in the wind. There was a sudden and very brief moment where he wanted to brush his knuckles against her cheek and push the loose strands of hair away from her eyes.

"I know," he growled. "But do it better."

She tried again, the feeling of the weapon in her arms becoming familiar. Yet she still trembled, her aim wavering immensely. Her palms were covered in sweat and her heart was throbbing in her ears. She could feel her skin vibrating with electricity.

"Stop trembling," he mumbled.

"I can't," she muttered and wasn't surprised when he heard her.

"It's going to be cold when you're going to face a real target," he answered vehemently, his tone raising. The sun was turning her humid skin into a hot mess and she yearned to take off the ridiculous hoodie.

She fidgeted with the weapon, her eye still looking through the scope. "You're making me nervous," she murmured. He tensed, his hands clenching instinctively on the barrel of the gun. His eyes found the back of her head, where he caught a glimpse of the pale flesh of her neck. He could see blue bolts coursing through her veins, just like the serum was boiling his own blood.

He knew why he was making her nervous; he had since the first time they met. He could always see the slight bitterness in her eyes, the way they darted to exit paths whenever he was around. Or the way her fingers were curled into fists and her skin was buzzing with electricity. He unnerved her in a way _she_ didn't even understand.

"It doesn't matter, just aim," he grumbled. She sighed lowly, her elbows bending as she brought the gun back to eye level.

"I can feel you judging me," she mumbled again, and when he moved to stand beside her, he noticed how red her cheeks were.

"So when you're going to be in a situation of life or death, you're not going to shoot that gun because you _can feel me judging you_?" he growled, and she could feel how close he was. His shoulder brushed hers and a shiver sliced through her spine, bolts of electricity tingling her skin.

The gun dropped in her hands, her face finding Bucky's very annoyed and pissed one. "You're an asshole to me and then you want to teach me guns, but you're rude and cold. That doesn't make sense!" Her eyes were wild, the chocolate color of them lighter with the sun now bright and hot.

His movements were sudden and quick, his hand snatching the brunette's forearm in his human flesh hand. "You're pathetic," he gnarled, baring his teeth. He came inches from her own face and she could see just how much he was neglecting his beard, but she also remarked how white his teeth were. Despite for the fear prickling her skin, she managed to stare at his searing eyes and the blown pupil. "All this hesitation gets you dead."

"Stop talking to me like that," she said, her voice wavering between a mewl and frustration. He stared down at her, his jaw twitching, his fingers itching to _hurt_ her because she was angering him.

"You're not a baby," he growled back. "This world is harsh. Steve and Sam and Nat have been treating you like a little doll. You're not ready to fight. You're weak." She tried to wrench her arm from his hand, but to no avail. His fingers were clenched hard around her wrist and the more he pulled her closer to him, the angrier she got. Her face was red with acrimony and her heart was burning with frustration. He was pushing the line, he knew it, but he was tired of her being a little caged bird. "You're going to die because you're afraid of the big bad wolf, or worse, you're going to be kidnapped because you can't pull a trigger. Like I said, weak."

Again, she savagely tried to break free, her teeth clamped together as she growled, "let go."

He pulled her harshly to him, her free hand pressing against his chest, her doe brown eyes boring into his. "Someone is going to be threatening you or one of us, and you won't be able to protect us because you're _scared_." His voice wavered between insanity and annoyance.

"I said stop!" Her voice was louder, his face so close to hers she could feel the heat rolling off of him.

"You're not going to last long," he growled and her anger burst like a fireball at the center of her being and she kicked him in the shin, his grip loosening enough for her to wrench her arm free. She leveled the gun until the end was pointed at his chest. She was breathless, her chest heaving with the angry intakes of breath she was forcing through clenched teeth. Anger boiled in her every vein as she resisted the urge to shoot him like he deserved. Her fingers trembled, hovering dangerously close to the trigger.

And he just smiled.

He visually embraced how she looked, standing with a gun aimed at his chest. Her dark brows were pulled tightly into a frown, her lips pursed, and her eyes swimming in charcoal. Her anger transformed her ability internally, blue rivers dancing under her flesh, glowing and sparkling.

"Now you're ready to learn."

* * *

Dinner was pizza. Since no intruder could come near the house, it was up to Steve and Clint to make the pizza. Wanda helped with the crust and Addie helped slicing up the items to put on the pizzas. In all, it was a very enjoyable cooking session after her time with Bucky during the day. He had her tensed up so much that her neck was stiff and her shoulders were sore. Her forearms hurt from holding the heavy weapon for so long and her eyes were red from staring through the scope.

They had set up the dinner table with fine cutlery and shining silverware. They had fanned out stark white napkins and they had all tried to look their best. There was no particular occasion but for everyone's sanity, Steve had suggested a group dinner. No one really ate together. Addie ate breakfast usually with Wanda, Steve, and Clint, and spent her dinners alone in her room scrolling through the Internet. She had eaten dinner with everyone else only once or twice, usually when Nat cooked.

She was especially happy to participate this time, her anger and annoyance from earlier dissipating as she sliced and cut pepperonis and peppers and mushrooms. She watched the complicity of the rest of them; those people who were connected in unbelievable ways through magic and inhuman abilities as they performed rather ordinary things such as screaming when one pizza burned or snorting when there was way too much paprika on another. They seemed so extraordinary from afar, yet once you got closer into their world, they were simply humans. Normal humans.

They were eating like a bunch of high school goofballs; sauce on their chins and wolfish grins on their lips. Everyone was typically enjoying themselves except for, obviously, Bucky, who was bent over his four slices. He barely talked as he ripped his teeth through the crust and avoided eye contact as much as possible.

"Steve has some good news," Clint said through a mouthful of pizza. The aforementioned wiped his mouth clean with the back of his hand and gulped.

"It's not _good_ news, just news," he chuckled nervously.

"Did you talk to Sharon?" Sam asked as he shoved a whole slice into his mouth.

"I bet you guys tried phone sex and that wasn't for you," Scott cut in, a huge suggesting grin on his bearded face. Wanda burst out laughing, pizza bits flying into her plate. When she realized most of us were simply in shock, she covered her mouth and nodded seriously.

"I don't think Steve is into those things," she said almost sarcastically.

Steve was shaking his head like he was dealing with twelve-year-olds and he might as well be. "It's not about Sharon," he mumbled, and Addie could see how pink his cheeks were as he dipped his head forward and cleared his throat awkwardly.

"You finally figured out how to open your phone," Sam said, chuckling and elbowing Scott in the ribs.

"Oh oh, I know," Wanda said, her index pointing at Steve. "You listened to Magic Carpet Ride and discovered just how much you missed in seventy years."

"Sharon sent you a selfie and you didn't know how to send one back."

"No guys, he probably figured out memes."

Steve got up abruptly, setting everyone on edge and dissipating the comic aura around the table. He leaned forward, hands on the table, and smiled forcefully. He was not in a mood to joke and here they all were, poking and prodding through his personal life and joking about it. "Clint and I might have a lead."

"Shit," Scott grumbled.

"After weeks of waiting, something finally popped up," Sam commented.

Steve nodded. "One of Clint's um... friends gave us intel. There might be HYDRA activity in an old industrial plant in Florida. We think they could have been covering it up with satellite interference and the like because not one of Clint's gadgets could get us a full, close up view of the place."

"We should go soon," Clint added. "The faster we find out what they're hiding there, the faster we know what they're up to."

"You think they could be hiding what in there?" Wanda asked, her eyes glued to Steve like he was a life force.

"All we know is that Loki, presumed dead, is with them now," he grumbled, "and we know how infinite Loki's quest for power can be. He could be hiding an Infinity Stone like there could be nothing."

"So what's the deal?" Sam asked.

"We need everyone on board," Clint continued. "We don't know what to except. A HYDRA army or just two janitors? We don't know. We can't risk it."

"So we investigate and if we have to fight, we fight," Steve said. "There might be things we need to take, people we'll have to fight, but we're not going there solely for bloodshed."

Addie's heart was in her throat. Her first mission. The more Steve explained the mechanics of the mission, the more her skin pin prickled with anticipation. She watched everyone pour themselves into the details, but all she could think of was that she would finally fight someone. She would finally be on a mission with the _Avengers_.

"Addie, you cool?" Sam asked from the other side of the table.

When she looked up, she caught sight of Bucky staring at her with darkness swirling into those scorching eyes of his before she nodded and said, "yeah, I'm cool."

Steve gave her a curt nod, his eyes narrowed on her face as if trying to decipher if she really was ready. "We leave tomorrow," he said.

They finished dinner in a frenzy of jokes engendered by Sam and Scott, followed by Wanda and Addie guffawing and throwing pizza at each other while Cap and Clint were trying to calm them down. Alas, they could do nothing but watch the two grown men make stupid jokes while two young women burst out in laughter. There wasn't even any alcohol. Bucky was bent awkwardly over his pizza, his mouth remaining shut and his eyes averted.

As usual whenever they ate dinner together, they washed the dishes together. And again, Sam and Scott were goofing around and aiming the water jet in Wanda's face, followed by whipping Addie with a soaking wet towel. Nonetheless, the kitchen floor was soaked and so were the girls as they desperately tried to calm their laughter.

As she made her way alone up to room, she had a permanent smile on her lips. She was finally fitting in; something she could hardly do for the past couple weeks due to Bucky's condoning and disregard. She would finally go on a mission with the Avengers; well half of them anyway. She'd have a chance at proving herself, showing what she was made of. She was not a scared little girl like Bucky made her out to be; she'd fight whether she'd have to use her electricity or not.

A raised voice caught her attention as she was about to enter her room. Her ears perked as she heard muffled voices behind Bucky's door.

"Keep quiet."

She frowned, her heart in her throat as she took tentative steps towards the door. Her palms collected sweat, her head telling her she should not meddle in something that isn't her business.

"Look all I'm saying is we can't bring her." It was obviously Bucky speaking, the bitter tone of his voice giving him away.

"How else will she gain experience, Buck?" Steve whispered harshly. "She can't keep fighting us. One day, she'll _have_ to fight the enemy."

Addie gulped as she carefully approached the closed door, her fingers skimming the wall anxiously.

"One day, yes," Bucky replied, "but I don't think she's ready."

"Because you keep putting her in the dark, Buck." Very lowly, she heard Bucky groan tiredly. "We have to trust she'll do what we taught her."

Addie's lips turned into a sweet smile at Steve's words, but she was soon rendered frozen in her place when Bucky cleared his throat and whispered lowly, "I'll protect her."


	8. Chapter 7

**This chapter is again a long one but full of action. Enjoy. Thanks to all who followed and favorited!**

Chapter seven: Chatoyant

She stood inside the mouth of the open jet, her ripped jeans making the cool wind lap at her knees and thighs. Her dark green hoodie was pulled over her dark locks, her honey-colored eyes staring at the purple early morning sky. There was a handgun strapped to her right thigh and an array of knives around her hips. The wind was throwing some lose strands of dark hair into her eyes, but when the jet started, her hoodie was flung back and her hair flew behind her head. The low hum of the jet made the electricity in her veins sing as the door slowly pulled up and closed completely. The night sky disappeared behind a metal door, the girl's melancholic eyes still staring.

The plane lifted slightly, the electricity in the air sparking. She turned to face the rest of the crew as they were strapping in and going over the routine plans. Steve was wearing his dark black and blue suit with the enigmatic grey star on his chest. Clint was dressed in his usual leather fight suit and Wanda had a dark red leather jacket and black jeans. Her boots were laced up to her knees and her hair was tied in a tight braid that went along the curve of her skull. Sam and Scott had dark jackets and matching light jeans that made them look more like friends than two allies going on a mission. Sam had his hand on the Falcon suit while Scott adorned his forearm gear.

As for Bucky, sitting somewhat far away from everybody else, was wearing black cargo pants and a dark leather body suit. His hair was tangled before his eyes, his mouth in a tight scowl as he was bent over papers and notebooks filled with Steve and Clint's writing.

Addie sat beside Wanda and strapped in. The latter was fixing the knots in her boot laces when she met the burning dark gaze of Addison, mouth parted and slightly breathless. The plane rose higher as Wanda leaned sideways. "We got your back, girl," she whispered, a sly smirk on her lips. Addie sighed heavily, her nervousness stagnant in the air.

Her fingers trembled as she readjusted her belt. "What if..." she trailed off, her voice barely above a murmur.

Wanda put her slender hand over Addie's, her eyes taking a sorrowful turn. "Just stay behind us," she said, her voice dramatically sweet and inviting. "You got this."

"What if I put you guys in danger?" Addie whispered back, Bucky's words from yesterday still playing vividly in her mind.

 _Someone is going to be threatening you or one of us, and you won't be able to protect us because you're scared._

"You won't," Wanda answered. She settled back in her seat, her eyes glazing over as she sighed. "You're not a bad person, Addison," she mumbled. Not like them all, that's what she meant. Addie nodded, images playing in her mind of all the information she had on the Avengers. Clint, who had killed for the sake of being a spy and Scott, who had to lay down his family duties for the greater good. Sam could have saved his friend that one day in the sky and still blames himself for it. Steve had the deaths in Sokovia on his consciousness. Bucky had been used like a puppet to kill and slaughter and was built to destroy anything and anyone, which haunts him everyday. And Wanda had set off a bomb wanting to prove to the world she was an Avenger.

Addie wondered if she too would kill someone whilst trying to prove she was an Avenger.

The five hour flight was dangerously silent as everyone was mentally preparing for what they had to do. Steve was no where to be found, but everyone else was silently planning the strategies that were discussed before embarking on the plane.

She stood when JARVIS announced there was about half an hour left of flight time. She looked back at Wanda, who had headphones over her ears and was slowly dozing off. Addie took off to explore the plane, no specific destination in mind, her hand skimming lightly against the plane walls. Her ability was calling to all the humming and the buzzing from the aircraft, her cells burning with sparks and boiling with bolts. She closed her eyes, trying to picture her ability as being apart of her rather than being _a part_ of her. She felt her fingertips twitching with the need to release what was inside her; all that bottled up power.

 _I'll protect her._

She kept replaying his voice inside her head, trying to picture what he may have looked like at that moment; twisted with sadness or boiling with anger? She imagined him torn between strength and weakness, just like she had been since her electricity came to her.

She ended up in a little room, with a bed and a desk. The room was probably for long flights, and over the bed, a little window opened up to a sunlit sky, puffy clouds like an ice rink. Her fingers found the glass on the window before she could register what she was doing.

"I think we know each other."

She jumped, her fingers leaving the window as she turned to face a rather stricken Bucky. Her heart beat ferociously against her chest, her lips parting. "James," she said, her voice trembling ever so slightly. Her mind was still a buzz from seeing him standing there, his hands by his sides, eyes carefully avoiding hers. "I know we know each other," she added after a while of silence, her brows furrowing.

"I mean," he started, going from one foot to the other, "I think we knew each other before all this."

"Why do you say that?"

He looked around until his eyes found her hand print against the window over her head. "I have a feeling," he answered.

 _You're pathetic._

She glazed her eyes, her throat raw, as she recalled how brutal Bucky had been yesterday morning. Even this morning, at around three, when he had trained her a bit more, he was not the more pleasant.

"I don't think we knew each other, James," she whispered, her eyes round as they met Bucky's. His metal hand flexed and she was glad she was out of reach because he had a knack for grabbing her.

"I'm still remembering things from my life before," he said slowly, his eyes torn with anguish and guilt. "I know when what I see or hear is something I've encountered before."

Her chest heaved, but not from his words. He took a tentative step towards her, his black boots quiet against the floor of the plane. "You're wrong," she said plainly. She had never encountered Bucky before his appearance with Steve in her bar.

"I've seen you before," he whispered, and suddenly, he wasn't Bucky anymore. The shell that seemed to encompass his whole being slipped away so gently that Addie wasn't sure who she was looking at anymore. His eyes adorned a tenderness she was surprised to see and when he reached out with his flesh hand, she couldn't resist a flinch. She watched his hand slowly lift to her cheek, where he brushed his knuckles until his fingertips reached her hairline.

"James, what-"

"Addison, how many times have I told you," he whined, his hard tone exchanged for something less threatening. "It's Bucky."

Her heart was throbbing painfully in her throat, her eyes searching his face for any trace of a joke, but all she saw was his sincere look. She knew she had never seen him before the bar, and so why was he so keen on looking at her as if searching for something deeper?

Her face was gently cradled in the palm of his hand, yet she remained stiff. "You're scaring me," she murmured, her cheeks red, her eyes round with dismay.

"You should be," he said, his voice a contrast to the way his fingers were slowly caressing her skin. She was trembling under his touch, his fingertips aching to grab her chin yet the pitiful look in her eyes was keeping him from doing so. "You should stay away from me, little bird," he whispered, his tongue laced with menace.

"But-"

"I'll teach you guns but _do not_ get close to me," he interrupted, his jaw clenched, voice strained.

She didn't understand this man. He wanted, on his _own_ , to teach her how to use weapons. He wanted her to learn and get better, by even bringing her to accept that she was filled with anger. He wanted to protect her and now he was growling like a lion in her face, his words stinging more than scorching hot water. He said he knew her, yet he was threatening her to stay away from him. Since the beginning, he was letting her come close, becoming accustomed, and then throwing her away at arms length. He kept giving her false hopes and then crushing her to crumbs. She knew he would destroy her.

"Fuck you, James," she spat, wrenching her chin free from his grasp and breezing by him, leaving him facing the harsh sunlight seeping in through the window.

* * *

Steve had set up two teams just in case they needed to separate. Addie was with Scott and Sam, while Steve stayed with Bucky, Wanda, and Clint. There was a device buried deep in her ear that permitted her to communicate with all of them, a little microphone sewed into her green hoodie. They waited until evening settled and the air got cooler, but nonetheless still hot. They got out of the jeep they had all squished into after the plane landed somewhere in an empty field.

Steve had ordered them to stay behind him and Clint, their feet quiet on the grass that surrounded the industrial plant. They marched slowly in the high grass, their fingers flexed, their eyes wary of any movement.

"Stay alert, guys," Clint whispered through the ear piece.

Addie was behind Sam, the very last one in line. Her eyes were round as she tried to take in as much as she could. Up ahead, tall buildings loomed against the dark grey clouds, stars starting to pepper the darkness. The outline of the industrial plant cut through the charcoal skies. Addie wasn't strong enough yet to reach that far out and palm for electricity, but she was nonetheless trying. Her head was starting to pound slowly as she fanned herself out, tendrils stretching out like fingers, reaching for anything that they could feel. Nothing.

She risked a peak to her left, where Wanda was walking slowly through the underbrush, slightly ahead of her. The brunette was cast in thought, probably reaching out with her own power as well.

"The dark is our cover," Steve's voice whispered in the ear piece. "Let's use it to our advantage."

"Wanda, anything?" Clint asked harshly. When Addie looked ahead, he had his bow titled slightly downwards, but ready to fire at any sudden movement.

"Nothing yet," Wanda answered, her voice brisking briefly in the ear piece.

"Addie?"

"Nothing yet too," Addie answered, feeling stupid to be leaning down so her mouth was closer to the microphone in her hoodie. She heard someone hiss.

"Don't talk too close to the mic, birdie," Sam said, making Addie chuckle.

They continued to walk slowly through the underbrush, advancing at turtle speed towards the abandoned plant. The closer they got, the more grim details became evident. The windows were cracked or none existent in some places, dirty and dusty, letting no light through. The walls were covered in coal, dripping black goo and dust, coated in all kinds of disgusting materials. The ground was cement, yet it was so cracked that it resembled a dirty battlefield, and all kinds of trash was scattered all over the place.

As they neared the first building, Addie reached out again.

"I got something, and it's not us," Wanda said softly.

"Tell us," Steve answered.

"I'm feeling things, _people_ ," she said, her voice deep in thought.

Addie finally started to feel, and once she did, it never stopped. Electricity came to her all at once, crashing down like a five thousand meter wave, filling her with impulses and bolts. Her veins hummed vehemently, white hot as her blood sped through her body. Her fingertips were burning the more she let the electricity consume her, eyes blurry and blue as she saw all the individual pulses of electricity. Under her flesh, blue rivers danced, florescent in the darkness.

"I got something too," she whispered. The more she concentrated, the more she could see where the most fervent electrical impulses were coming from. "There's way too much electricity for an abandoned place." Her voice was soft, her eyes round as she tried her best to keep all the electricity within the confounds of her skin.

"Wanda, use Addie's ability to help us define what's going on," Steve said. Addie's eyes found Wanda's as the latter began to pick and choose through Addie's brain, molding her ability to the electricity and what it could do. A halo the color of red wine was cast around Addie, something she was accustomed to due to training. Wanda and Addie's ability melded very well together.

"There's a building in the middle," Wanda said.

"The electricity is really strong there," Addie added.

"I can feel a lot of them there as well, but nothing _feels_ wrong," Wanda whispered, her eyes still glued to Addie.

"They're not expecting us," Steve wondered.

"There's some electricity around the perimeter of the first building," Addie said clearly, her senses starting to get used to the condensed influx of electricity.

"Let's get closer," Steve whispered, his head gesturing up ahead. They followed in silence, their boots quiet as they went from grass to broken cement. They lingered by a small, burnt building, leaning against the wall as to appear as invisible as possible. Steve was first in line, his head rounding the corner as he peered for any enemies.

"What you see?" Clint asked. Steve went down in a crouch, everyone following suit.

Addie's heart pounded ferociously in her chest, her palms sweaty, breath rasping quietly through her parted lips.

"Split up," Steve said, "cover more ground. Sam, head across to that building over there." He gestured towards another similar building directly across from them all.

"Got it," Sam said curtly. Addie followed him and Scott until she was safely behind a wall, her back pressed flush against it. Her veins were throbbing painfully with power, her blood boiling with the excessive impulses.

From where she was standing, in the very dim light of falling night, she saw Steve gesture to his team. They quickly and quietly, like ghosts, ran alongside the building until they had reached the one in front of the previous one.

"There's people in this building," Wanda whispered through the ear piece.

"Sam, send Redwing," Steve ordered gently. Sam nodded, tapping on his forearm device until a little, dark and almost unnoticeable drone lifted from inside the Falcon suit and hovered over her head. Gently and without any sound, it flew towards the building where Steve and the others were waiting.

"Two hostiles," Sam said, his voice gruff in the ear piece.

"We're not here for blood," Steve reminded everyone. "We're here to get information. Let's stay as undetected as possible until we have to fight, got it?"

Everyone gave silent grunts of approval, and they were on the move.

Addie, with her cheeks red and veins boiling, followed Sam and Scott as they made their way deeper into the abandoned industrial plant. They passed more buildings with more and more hostiles, Addie's ability gaining more and more power the closer they got to the center. Her vision was clearer, yet all she could see was the electricity and she had to concentrate to hear Sam's little grunts over the murmurs of her ability.

"Addie, what can you tell us," Clint asked, startling her.

She gulped harshly before answering. "There's something really strong at the center," she breathed. "I can't yet tell you what it is, but it's like a magnet for me. It feels like that time there was an EMP near my house, but this... this is like ten times stronger." Her back was covered in sweat and despite having done barely any hard work, she felt like she had just finished training with Nat. Her muscles were jelly, her joints cracking under pressure. The closer they got, the more she _needed_ to harvest that energy.

"Don't touch it just yet," Clint said, "it might still be a trap."

Addie breathed in desperately. "I don't know how long I can last until I harvest it," she admitted, her cheeks aflame with shame.

"I know you can do this Addie," Steve said, trying to be reassuring.

"Just do like we practiced, birdie," Wanda whispered, a smile evident in her voice. Addie breathed harder. She _could_ do this.

They had reached the outskirts of the central building, the electricity by then being stronger than anything she had ever felt. They were leaned against the walls of opposite buildings. From where she stood, between Sam and Scott, she could see Wanda frowning, her ability reaching as far as it could. Steve was in a crouch beside Clint, their eyes searching the darkness. Bucky stood behind them all, his gun angled forwards. His metal arm was glinting slightly in the moonlight.

Wanda's voice suddenly exploded in the ear piece and everything became clear as day. Light pooled in drastically from overhead, screams and shouts in unknown languages surrounding the courtyard they found themselves in. Steve's voice broke through the chaos briefly to tell them all to run. Addie, being pushed by Scott, was about to tell them all the electricity was coming to a pinpoint before the first shot rang through the air.

Fear gripped her every fiber and before she could control it, her skin was electricity and the air around her became charged. Scott, who had been closest to her, hissed and sprang away from her as they ran from the sound of guns.

"Make it back to the plane!" Steve was yelling, and when she looked back, she could see him running behind her with everyone else, the light pooling from God knows where outlining their running figures. "Run!"

She sped ahead, little lights popping with the sound of gunshots. The ground was bustling with bullets as they grazed her feet. Her heart was throbbing in her throat as she felt something off, something _really_ wrong.

Just as they were nearing the last row of buildings, dark figures stepped out from the shadows, silver guns glinting in the moonlight. They were nothing but dark shadows, no faces and no eyes. They were cloaked in darkness from head to toe, all twenty-some of them. The group skidded to a stop, Addie unwillingly the first one in line. Her mouth went agape, her hair a tangled dark mess around her pale face. She was breathless, heart beating with fear against her breastbone. Her fingertips were trembling with power, her veins white hot as they carried her boiling blood.

Sam and Scott came to stand slightly beside her, guns leveled to the targets up front. In a matter of seconds, everyone else was surrounding her. Wanda's shoulder was touching hers, the former's ability leaking through into Addie's own power.

"When they fire the first shot," Steve said, surprisingly calm compared to the pandemonium erupting in Addie's mind, "you run. Separate as much as possible. Eliminate as many targets as you can. We regroup before the entrance."

Addie's heart was pounding and boiling like a benzene fire. She had no idea how she could eliminate a target. All of a sudden, she was a suburban girl with no training again. Her mind went numb, her brain blank of all strategies.

Wanda's hand briefly brushed against Addie's in an attempt to calm the latter. "They won't hesitate," she whispered. "You have no choice if you want to live."

 _All this hesitation gets you dead._

Bucky's words replayed vividly in her mind as she found him, standing beside Steve, his gun leveled professionally. He looked terrifying; his brows pulled together, jaw clenched, eyes adorning a hatred unknown to man. He was breathing harshly, an aura of devilish hatred and acrimony radiating off of him. His metal arm was clenching the weapon, the plates readjusting and rewiring.

 _You're pathetic!_

She bit her lip when his eyes made brief and almost non existent contact with hers. The blood in her veins exploded with electricity and she knew someone had fired a shot.

She was on her feet in a matter of seconds, bolting for the shadows that surrounded the buildings. Her feet were pounding harshly against the broken cement, her ankles aching the faster she propelled herself across the courtyard. The bright white light that had been illuminating the yard did not reach the dusty corners of the plant and she found an empty spot where she could lodge herself in.

Her hands were gripping a wooden, broken door as she heard a zillion bullets rip the night sky. Her heart tumbled in her chest as she heard cries and shouts, her eyes darting as shadows moved graciously through the yard. She moved towards the edge of the building, still hidden in the shadows. She reached for the gun at her thigh, feeling the cold metal as she wrapped her fingers around the handle. She held it out, arms outstretched, gun facing the ground.

 _If you don't have to shoot, you hold it like this. Always ready._

Bucky had taught her well, despite only two training sessions. She breathed in harshly, seeing a million things all at once. Her senses were raw with power, but she kept herself in check.

"Wanda, come on, move!" It was Steve, yelling through the ear piece. When she saw them both running forward, she propelled herself out of the shadows and ran across the yard until she was once again hidden by another building.

She realized for the first time that she was alone. She had ran in the opposite direction of everyone else.

Another series of bullets tore the night sky, illuminating the ground in a yellow light. Addie saw feet running in different directions, shadows melding together and separating like bubbles in a bath. She heard shouts and screams in unknown and known languages, and heard the soft murmurs of electricity in her blood.

She decided she was going to use what she was given to her advantage. Standing up straighter, she felt for the source of that awful, blinding light and shut it off. The yard was cast in darkness and sudden silence, the air still stagnant with electricity. Feet scattered here and there, bullets being shot seemingly far away, but she knew they were close by.

"Addie shut down the lights!" someone yelled through the coms.

She let her mind wander to everything that was electrical, pulsing with energy, and just simply flipped the switch. Her skin was burning blue by the time everything was turned off, except for that center of energy in the middle of the plant.

Crouching in the darkness, she let her eyes adjust to the very sudden darkness, pupils blown, seeing figures ghosting by here and there. She couldn't tell friend from foe until something sharp and blue spun through the air with a ring of metal as it hit a shadowy figure. Steve's shield.

She leaped onto her feet when she saw Steve and Clint rushing through the yard, Wanda not far behind. A red halo was cast around her body, pulses of her ability scattering around her like shield. She used her hands and her telekinesis to throw her enemies around while the shield protected her and shielded Cap and Barton as well.

Addie reached the small group in seconds and noticed how dirty and bloody they were. They had gotten most of the fight, cuts and bruises evident on their pale flesh. She fell in line beside them, her skin still blue and ready to release bolts. Her hands still gripped the handgun, but her fingers were burning with her ability, little sparks edging along the weapon. She could feel her flesh dancing with flickers of electricity, and all she saw was the pulses in her eyes.

She fired her first shot at a figure lounging a building. They were almost by the edge of the plant, the grass inches away from their feet, when something rolled by their feet. Cap screamed something incoherent into the ear piece and she found herself being flung by Wanda's ability. She soared through the air effortlessly, her eyes wide as an orange explosion ripped the night sky in half. The ground trembled, heat eviscerating her hands and feet, flinging her even more sharply against the wall of the building.

* * *

Bucky was with Sam and Scott, walking backwards to the grass field, guns held high and shooting, when he heard the explosion. He was trained to let no minor inconvenience undermine his work, so he did not pay much more attention as he continued to drop targets. They were coming in from everywhere, crawling like ants, running like wild animals. They were cloaked in darkness, shooting dangerously close to his ears. He had fought one before joining up with Sam and Scott and so his brow was split and his right cheekbone was throbbing with pain. Yet he continued to kill them, one by one, his face pulled into a tight and concentrated frown.

"Cap, come in!" Sam yelled. They waited a few seconds, guns still blazing bullets, bodies still running and hiding behind anything in the yard. Once they had reached a building near where the explosion had originated, they threw themselves against the back wall and waited until the enemy stopped shooting at them. "Steve, come in!" Sam insisted. There was a loud noise again, like an explosion had once again tore the sky, but no orange glow mushroomed up in flames.

"Damn it!" Sam yelled, concern and fear ringing in his voice. He deployed his wings, and before he could fly off into the darkness, he tapped Bucky on the shoulder. "Stay with Lang!"

"Let's head to them," Bucky growled, his voice steady like he had been trained to be. He grabbed Scott by the elbow and they were once again scurrying in the darkness, guns held up, hands gripping the weapons. Silence had fallen; no guns were being shot and only the sound of feet scurrying on the ground could be heard from a distance.

They crawled through the maze that was the abandoned plant, Bucky leading and Scott covering the back. Nothing popped out and attacked them, but the feeling that something bad was happening was growing under their skin like mold.

"Wanda, Clint, Addie, come in," Scott whispered.

Silence answered them.

Bucky calculated how far they still had to walk until they reached the explosion site. There was no way the coms weren't reaching. There was no excuse for why no one was coming in.

Then he understood. The low buzz that was always there in his ear was gone, the ear piece dead. No wonder the coms didn't work; they were shut down.

"It's Addie," he said in the darkness, his eyes never leaving the scope of his weapon. "She must have burned them."

He heard Scott give a low sound of agreement. "Let's hurry up then," he answered.

The closer they got to the site, the more action they could hear. Grunts and groans and shouts rose up to their ears, the air smelling of coal and smoke. Through the maze of buildings they could see red and orange flames licking the cement and crawling up wooden doors and walls. They crawled a little closer until Bucky was leaning against the corner of a building, his eyes peering around the edge. What he saw sent him rushing to his feet in an instant, bullets spilling from his gun.

Steve was engaged in a two man fight, his shield flying and rounding back to him as he punched and got kicked, stood up and got beaten down again. He had the upper hand, but not for long, since he was busy watching out for the others, as selfless as he is. Beside him, Clint was reaching behind his shoulder methodically, pulling out arrows and cutting down enemies as they ran towards him, his face serene in concentration. Wanda had her ability sprawled all over; shielding herself and Sam, throwing objects here and there, immobilizing enemies while Sam shot them down. Redwing was hovering over Sam's head, bullets ripping from the little aircraft. Bodies flew in the air, covered in red magic, their screams echoing in the darkness.

Bucky resisted the urge to get angry when Steve took a quite painful blow to the cheek. In his training, they had molded him to be careless and cold, calculated and cunning. He was methodical and precise, never letting emotions and sentiments rule his actions. The way he fought, the way he carried a gun, and the way he could slice someone's throat was drilled into him so far into his mind that he found himself recoiling to what he had been taught by HYDRA.

His gun was fast, finger quick on the trigger and he dropped more and more cloaked figures. He saw and heard all, the serum in his blood enhancing his senses until everything around him was accounted for. Every move Wanda made with her mind, he sensed it. Every arrow Clint shot was registered in the back of his mind, that bullet coming for Bucky's right leg logged and easily avoided. He was a machine, calibrating and rewiring as he killed as many dark and unimportant shadows. He could feel the gun propelling back against his shoulder, heard the bullet slide into place, the smoke rich on his tongue. He was a machine; a _killing_ machine.

Somewhere, he could hear an unfamiliar voice squeaking in the darkness.

"Are you serious right now!?"

Blue rivers of electricity sparked through the black air, briefly illuminating his surroundings. He heard skin against skin, but he was a machine. He did not let unimportant noises around him diverge him from his mission.

There were less and less black figures coming at them, but he knew there were more coming and they needed to go, _now_. Their only window to escape was opening soon, and if they didn't run like hell, they would be caught in yet another wave of those mysterious cloaked people.

Just as Bucky fired his last shot, he spun on his heel to meet the rest of the group. He was met by Steve rushing to a point by the right, Wanda outstretching her hand and a yell caught in her throat. Everything seemed to slow as he turned his head to where Steve was running to.

Addie lay on her back, her face torn in fear and anger, her cheeks slick with tears of concentration. She was straining against a heavy cloaked figure, who was fighting against her arms and hands, thighs straddling her hips. A gun was painfully and dangerously aimed to the base of her neck, where her pulse strained against her flesh. Addie's face was covered in bruises and cuts, blood leaking down in ringlets until it splashed onto the cement. Her mouth was opened in silent screams, as if she was yelling in water.

Bucky had just the time to take the tiniest of steps forward, his heart lurching in his chest, as a shot rang clear through the star lit night.


	9. Chapter 8

**A little less action after a more action-filled one.**

 **Thank you to Digger, Jess C, and Guest for your wonderful reviews.**

 **Katie 123: I see where your concern lies. Without revealing too much of what is to come, Addie is _supposed_ to seem useless at first. I am trying to make her grow and mature and yes, she has immense power, and the only reason why she doesn't use it as often as let's say Wanda is because she has no idea how to properly use it. I don't want to reveal too much of Addie so if you have any further questions, I will be more than happy to answer them in my PMs. Thank you for reading and your comment was very helpful. **

**As I said, this is a slow burn.**

Chapter eight: Lethargy

She was propelled harshly against the wall, the fire of the explosion heating the flesh of her face. She gave a gurgled yelp, electric bolts searing out of her fingertips involuntarily. Her ears rang from the grotesque sound the explosion made and her back was sore from being whipped against a wall by Wanda's magic. Her knees bent as she collapsed in on herself, bracing against the withering pain shooting through her body. She could feel her skin glowing blue with energy, but the explosion had rendered her blind and deaf, as she viewed the world behind a curtain of blur and ringing.

As her senses were slowly coming back to her, she found herself on all fours, reaching painfully and breathlessly for the gun that had been knocked out of her grip during the blast. She latched it to the holster at her waist and sighed. She started to hear the rest of the group coming to their own senses as well, screaming and shouting names, making sure everyone was alive.

Her heart pinched when she imagined them all, lying broken and bloody on the blown cement, dead and wide eyed, staring at the bruised sky. She looked up through her tears, feeling her skin raw from the fire, her orbs searching the orange flames for any sight of her friends. She saw shadows of different colors crawling among the red glow, the world still too confusing for her to make out any details.

She was wrenched from her state when a foot made painful contact with the side of her face.

The world dipped and spun as she rolled onto her side, the ringing in her ears coming back twice as powerful. Her eyes found the purple sky, her breath rasping out of her throat when a shadow spun in her peripheral vision.

She had just enough time to evade the knife that was coming for her forehead and spun onto all fours. Her instincts kicked in savagely, adrenaline soaking her blood and dissipating her blurry vision into one as clear as day.

The person was stood a couple feet away from her, adorning all black pants and shirt, their face covered by a dark mask. Their hair was the color of the sand on a beach, yet that was all she saw that proved they were human as they dashed madly towards Addie.

She evaded his punch, growls and grunts coming from both their mouths as Addie replayed all the lessons Nat had taught her. She grabbed the man by the elbow, twisting herself up and under him until his back was facing her. She released enough of her energy to startle him. Blue rivers danced along his skin, visible under his dark clothing. He writhed in pain, skin churning and burning as smoke rose up from his wound.

Addie kicked him suddenly in the back, sending him sprawling forward, but he came back at her again. She took one good punch to the jaw and a knee to the stomach before she wrapped her arms around his waist and threw him off her, right hand making shocking contact with his cheekbone. Once he was back in her face, she managed to throw all the electricity she could muster into him, her hands locked around his neck. He fried like a pan, his mouth letting out gurgled sounds and gory breaths as she smelled his burning skin.

He tried one last time to come at her, but he was out of breath, his skin smelling like burnt bacon. He was slow and almost dead, and so Addie decided she would use his sorry ass as practice. She used all the lessons Nat had taught her and kicked, punched, scratched, and clawed her way through that awful man who had tried to kill her. She started to scream, her fear turning to anger the more her fist made contact with his face.

He was on he ground, his eyes closed, blood clotting his face, when she was brutally pushed in the back. She toppled over with a grunt, her eyes frantically searching for whoever had pushed her. Hands flailing, she spun on her heel to get caught off guard by a solid and brusque punch to the face. She felt her jaw crack, a sound that reverberated in her mouth, blood hot on the tip of her tongue. The world dipped ever the slightest, her mind a swirl of incoherence when she felt her legs being kicked from underneath her.

Her skull made a bone splitting noise as it made contact with the cement, darkness oozing in the corners of her vision. She brought her hands up over her face in a feeble attempt to protect herself but she was already dead. She was straddled by another masked figure, their hands gripping her wrists and splitting them until her face was uncovered.

"Are you serious right now!?" she bellowed, her mouth spitting blood onto her chin.

She tried to use her legs against him but he was too heavy for her to lift up her hips. Everything after that happened too fast, just a blur of movements that brought her deeper and deeper into unconsciousness. His fists kept caving into her face, his hands fighting against hers to wrap around her throat. Her heart beat ferociously against her rib cage, yet the adrenaline that had been there before was gone, leaving her bare. She was reaching out, but every time she felt his knuckles scrape against her flesh, her mind was caught in a whirlwind that sent her spiraling.

His hands briefly left her face to find his gun, which gave her a split second to wrap her right hand onto her own weapon. Her fingers found the cold trigger when she felt the barrel of his gun press painfully against her throat. A vein was straining against her skin where he was pressing his weapon, and her eyes found his mask in a split second. She could not see his eyes, nor see anything else besides his auburn hair, and it made her blood boil under her skin. Even if she reached out to find her electricity, she was being held back, her mind too broken to function. She let out a pathetic breath and felt him hesitate ever the slightest.

 _All this hesitation gets you dead._

A shot rang clear through the night, blood splattering all over her face.

* * *

Steve was quick on his feet, propelling himself across the yard, followed by Wanda and Sam. They sped along the cement, their mouths opened and screaming yet Bucky heard none. He continued to watch them, his haunting blue eyes finding her body sprawled on the cement. He gripped his weapon tighter, knuckles turning white under the pressure. He met gazes with Clint and Scott, yet both their expressions were more humane than Bucky's.

He had told her she would never make it. She was frail and small. Even though she had incredible power, she was useless because she barely knew how to use it. She could never have been an Avenger; she just wasn't quite fit for it. Everyone should have listened to Bucky and left her in Montreal, where she was safe and most likely to survive than here, on a battlefield with which she had no experience whatsoever.

They would give her a nice funeral and invent some type of bullshit as to why she had been shot through the neck. Nick Fury or SHIELD would conceal the real truth of her death and her body would travel back to her parents. Everyone here would forget about her soon enough, including Bucky. He would forget that he knew her, that there was something oddly familiar in the sound of her voice or the way she quirked a brow when she was pissed off. He would forget that she was a vague memory, just out of reach, that would soon fade away the more dead she stayed.

What Bucky saw next was quite strange to him. The man that had killed Addie fell awkwardly to the side, his head on the ground, back rounded up towards the sky. When Steve reached them, he kicked the masked man until he lay flat on his back, sprawled like a star on the ocean floor. Then Cap reached down and gathered Addie into his arms, lifting her up like she was air, her legs dangling over his arm and her head pressed flat against his chest. When Steve turned and screamed, "let's go!" Bucky saw the girl's lips moving, forming words only Steve could hear.

So, she wasn't dead after all.

He followed Steve as the group ran among dead, black, charred bodies and over fallen buildings. The explosion and everything else that followed had caused even more damage to the already broken industrial plant. They ran among a mine field, their eyes wary for rocks not to twist their ankles on. They ran quietly through the clearing, the high grass _whooshing_ along their thighs, the night air cooler away from the fires. There were clouds ahead, black and curling in on themselves, announcing a terrible storm. There was static in the air and whether that was the oncoming thunderstorm or Addie fidgeting with electricity, he couldn't know.

They crammed into the Jeep, Addie still unconscious and sprawled over Steve's lap like a child. Her eyes were closed and Bucky could see the spirals of blood on her face, a dark crimson in contrast to the milky white of her skin. Clint pressed on the gas pedal, the tires screeching on the cement as they whirled through deserted Florida streets. Bucky was not really aware of the car ride, which was rare of him. He was usually attuned to everything around him, which his training had drilled into his mind, over and over again. He could usually sense and hear and see all, the serum in his veins enhancing his senses, yet in the car, his ears were filled with white noise and all he could do was stare at the ribbon of dark road through the windshield.

They arrived at the place where the sleek black jet was hidden. Bucky stayed behind everyone, the last one to enter the aircraft, the mouth of the jet closing sharply behind him. Everyone was in a haste, their feet scuffling along the metal floor, their words bouncing off the walls, echoing harshly in his ears. Steve carried her into the emergency medical room that was kept for simple patch ups, not to revive someone or fix a broken bone because Bucky was sure she had a couple.

She was put onto a blue and black stretcher, the color matching the puke green walls of the room. They crowded in around her, all their eyes wide open, staring blankly at her unconscious face.

"JARVIS, run full scan," Steve said, his voice wavering between control and fear. His blue orbs were shot with red, his mouth parted as he continued to stare at Addie.

"No broken bones," JARVIS said, his calm voice soothing over the silent chaos in the room. "Heart beat detected. She has however suffered blood loss, multiple contusions, and bruised ribs. Besides those minor physical wounds, I'm pleased to announce there appears to be no life threatening issues, Captain Rogers."

Steve hung his head in relief, his shoulders relaxing. "No broken bones," he repeated softly under his breath. Wanda put a delicate, soothing hand onto his shoulder, her brows pulled up in melancholy.

"The serum must have helped for that," Clint muttered, and when Bucky found him, he was leaning against the wall, his own flesh peppered with cuts and bruises.

"The serum?" Bucky asked, his voice a bit too loud for the room. She had been given the serum too? The same one as him?

Steve gave Bucky a look over his shoulder, his eyes patronizing and condemning as he shook his head slightly. _Stop thinking about your damn self._ Bucky knew Steve well enough to guess what that look was all about.

"I'll take care of her," Wanda said, her eyes finding everyone who was calmly standing around. "Go away now, I'll patch her up."

They shuffled out quietly, their mouths shut but their minds running wild. Bucky followed behind, the last one out, his eyes focusing hard against the floor dotted by Addie's blood.

"JARVIS, tell me where to start."

* * *

She sat up on the cold stretcher, her booted feet dangling over the edge. Her whole face was throbbing, her skin feeling as if it was on fire. Her lip was badly cut, swollen red and blue, bruised where knuckles had made contact with the flesh. Her nose had been bruised as well, a small cut lounging the bridge, blood still fresh in the wound. Her right cheekbone was blown, the skin an angry red. And her jaw, luckily unbroken, was badly hurt, and every time she talked, pain shot up her nerves and her eyes watered. Her ribs, as JARVIS had announced, were badly bruised and she would have to limit her movements for at least two weeks. Whenever she breathed, it was like a benzene fire exploded in her lungs.

"Make sure you don't do anything drastic for a while," Wanda said as she gently grabbed Addie's wrist and turned it over to expose the irritated, bleeding skin. During the scuffle on the floor, Addie's forearms had suffered burn marks and cuts which Wanda was now patching up. The latter had taken time to stitch up the cut over Addie's brow and dabbed alcohol over all the other cuts.

"Yeah," Addie answered, her voice roach, throat raw and painful.

"The serum should speed up the healing process," Wanda added, dabbing more alcohol on the small cuts and then proceeding to wrap them up in white gauze. When she saw the questioning look that Addie was giving her she added, "you knew about the serum, right?"

"No."

Wanda sighed, tying up the gauze as it sat half way up the brunette's forearm. "They never told you that you had an altered form of the serum, like the serum that made Cap and Buck?"

Addie looked up to the ceiling slightly then quirked a brow. "I had an idea that I had been injected with something that made me heal faster, do things and feel things differently, but just above average. I'm faster and stronger than before, but not like Steve. I didn't magically grow biceps and a metal arm."

"Nat found your file and we all read it," Wanda said, almost timidly, her big round eyes staring at Addie.

"I didn't even read it, but the rest of the compound did?" the other girl exclaimed, but she wasn't very angry. In fact, she was too tired and bruised to be angry.

"You're more like us than you think, birdie," Wanda chuckled, a smirk playing on the corner of her lips.

Addie rolled her eyes. "I wish I wasn't," she whispered, feeling the girl beside her flinch. "I actually miss having due dates and essays and stressing over the end of the semester. Compared to this, school was so trivial."

"Are you a maniac?" Wanda laughed, slightly pushing the other girl, who winced as pain shot through her bones. "Sorry. I don't miss anything school related. Education raped my ass even though I was a smart cookie."

"So why didn't you stay?" Addie asked, her honey-colored orbs finding the blue of Wanda's.

"Authority wasn't really my thing," she answered with a shrug, "and my parents died."

"I heard about that," Addie croaked out, eyes avoiding the haunted stare of her friend.

"One thing led to another and I found myself in very, very bad things." Wanda's voice was but a whisper, her face changed from friendly to something melancholic and angry, her eyes cast in the past.

"Do you regret agreeing to Strucker's experiments?" Addie asked. Wanda seemed to think about it for a second, her head titled slightly to the side, lower lip pouted in thought.

"Everything that happened, you know, Sokovia, Ultron, Wakanda," she started, "most of it would not have happened if Pietro and I didn't agree to Wolfgang's experiments. HYDRA would not have had two weapons of mass destruction, Ultron wouldn't have used me and my brother, and I wouldn't have been there to... I wouldn't have caused the damage that I did in Wakanda." She sat next to Addie on the stretcher, her eyes lost in thought, hands gripping the metal sides until her knuckles turned white. "And maybe Pietro would still be alive."

"Wanda..." Addie felt worse inside than she did on the outside. Whatever her wounds were doing was nothing to the pain raging in Wanda's eyes.

"But," Wanda added, a sad smile splaying on her lips, "I am here, right now. Here and alive and trying to make a better world. When Steve broke me and the others out of that horrible prison the secretary of state had us in, I decided I was not going to be what Tony and the others saw me as."

"And what do Tony and the rest of them think of you?" Addie asked because she saw Wanda as someone bigger than the universe; a girl stronger than her pain.

"Dangerous," she said. "They think I am unaware of the power within me and that I don't understand how much damage I can do. The world thinks I'm a nuclear weapon. I'm going to prove them wrong." She got up with a resolve, her chin jutted upward, a harsh smile on her lips.

"And how are you doing that?" Addie asked.

"By cleaning your wounds!" Wanda said, a little too jolly. She produced a bucket from under the stretcher and filled it with water with the sink that connected to the far wall of the room.

"Wanda, can I ask you something and you really don't take is personally?" Addie asked, her eyes carefully avoiding the ocean blue of Wanda's.

"You want to be alone," Wanda stated, settling the water filled bucket on the side of the sink, a yellow sponge floating on the water. "I get that." She smiled tightly, giving Addie a small squeeze on her hand before leaving the room, the door closing silently behind her.

Addie had not been alone since she woke up somewhat deranged, with bright white lights blinding her, her whole body throbbing with excruciating pain. She had not been able to think about how she had failed because Wanda was busy running her mouth and effectively distracting her.

Addie slid off the stretcher onto wobbly, burning legs and painfully made her way with misery until she reached the sink. Holding the sides of the concrete sink, Addie braced herself until she felt like the world wasn't turning in circles around her. Her breath settled, but was still raw and coiled in her lungs and she fought against the fire. Her hands shook, cuts on her skin bright red and crimson on her pale flesh. Her face and arms were still caked in blood and as she dipped her hand into the warm water to grab the sponge, she saw the rivulets of red spiral in the water.

She still couldn't come to terms with how easy it was for her assailant to almost shoot her in the fucking neck. Seconds before, she had been beating the living hell out of another, completely in control, completely intuned with her power, and the next moment she was on her back, blind with pain.

Everything Nat had taught her, all the details to pay attention to, had vanished into thin air like smoke in the wind. Even her electricity had been completely turned off, as if someone flipped the switch. The rapidity of the moment had also made it quite impossible to think at all, something that Nat had clearly stated was impossible to do during a fight.

And just how she had managed to survive?

Of course, the slight moment of hesitation on her assailant's part had proven to be a beacon of light at the end of the tunnel. She had her hand on her gun, slowly inching it between their bodies until the barrel was pointed at his chest, just like she had aimed the weapon at Bucky yesterday. When she saw how small her window of opportunity was, her finger was quick on the trigger, fatefully ending his life with a bullet straight through the heart.

Even though there was nothing to feel towards the man she had killed, she still felt somewhat sour about ending someone's life so brutally and so banal. She squished the sponge in the water, lifting it over the bucket. There was something strange and ashy in her chest, a feeling rare to her as she tried to scrape the dried blood from her knuckles.

The door squeaked open on its hinges, revealing a sliver of darkness in the brightly lit room. Slowly, a black booted foot nudge the door and as Addie scanned her eyes up, she followed the dark cargo pants, the leather chest piece and met the tormented blue eyes of Bucky.

"Not interested to have you brooding around me right now, Barnes," she grumbled, her eyes avoiding his in half embarrassment and half anger. The door opened completely, Bucky walking in slowly and closing the door behind him.

"Too bad," he mumbled back.

She ignored him, choosing to wipe the blood off the top of her hand. "Wanda didn't tell you to leave me alone?" she asked, her voice wavering along the lines of hatred.

"She did."

"Then why didn't you listen to her?" She felt him moving in her peripheral, his dark figure looming closer to her than expected.

"Because why would I?" he threw back, his hand reaching until it grabbed the sponge from her still bloody hands. "You didn't put any soap," he said matter-of-fact, his voice bland. She frowned, one eyebrow quirking as she watch him lean under the sink, rummaging through bottles until he fished out hand soap. He twist the cap open and poured a considerable amount into the bucket, turned the water on again, and watched until the water oozed with bubbles.

"I don't need your help, thank you," she said, her voice bitter, grabbing the sponge from his hand viciously. The brusque act sent her tumbling a bit to the side, her balance still off. Her eyes glazed over as she felt dizziness overcome her.

"Looks like you do," he grumbled, grabbing the sponge back and settled his left hand onto her elbow, steadying her. "Maybe you should sit."

"Don't tell me what to do," she mumbled, but she sat back down on the stretcher anyway. She watched with big round eyes as Bucky dipped the sponge in the bucket, squeezed it in his palm, and walked over to where she sat. He held his metal palm up, his brows crawling up his forehead. Reluctantly, she let her hand grip onto his metal digits and he pulled her forward slightly, the warm sponge making contact with her flesh.

"So what happened out there?" he asked slowly, his eyes never leaving the sponge.

"You were there weren't you?" she said bitterly, her mouth taunt, brows knitted together forcefully. "Or did you hop onto a magic carpet and Aladdin your ass outta that yard?" She was angry, fuming, but more at herself than at him. She was unconsciously taking it out on him, fishing for a fight so she could say all the ugly things in the world to him. She wanted someone to blame but the only one to blame was herself.

"I'm asking you what you think happened," he said, again so calm that she was asking herself if Bucky had been bodysnatched.

"I had a fight," she said, resisting the urge to cross her arms over her chest. He was dragging the sponge along her forearm, effortlessly scraping off the dried blood while his warm, metal fingers wrapped around her wrist. The dark grey of his metal limb was a sharp, inviting contrast to the milky white color of her skin. The more his warm fingers pressed on her skin, the more she felt the returning pin prickles of electricity in her chest.

"You're avoiding the subject," he responded.

"You really want to talk about _avoiding_?" she growled back, her eyes squinting. "Because you're pretty bomb at avoiding people and pretending they don't exist and then teaching them guns but still treating them like gum under your shoe. Ring any bells or you're not Pavlov's dog?"

A sly smirk played on his lips and if it was not so daringly attractive, Addie would have slapped him across that beautiful face.

When he was done with her arm, her moved to the other, taking her wrist in his metal hand. She felt harsher, more bold bolts under her skin. She saw glowing little rivers of energy slithering in her veins.

"I could have used my electricity," she mumbled, her anger dissipating because his fingers wrapped so effortlessly and gently around her wrist that it made it hard for her to hate him. "I did with the other guy. But this one, he came at me from fucking no where."

"Caught you off guard while you were distracted," he added, brows furrowed in thought.

"I had no idea he was there and then it's like someone flipped the switch," she said, her voice shallow in the small room. "I couldn't do anything."

He turned his back to her, dipped the sponge back into the water, and squeezed it. His neck was taunt, charcoal hair messy and dirty from the fight. She silently watched him, how his jaw twitched in thought and his nose scrunched up as he saw how much blood was in the water.

"You need more training," he stated, facing her once again and rinsing her hands, taking the time to wash each and every finger. His flesh hand was almost intertwined with hers, making visible small rivers of blue dance under her skin. He unnerved her.

"I thought that was obvi-"

"You shouldn't have come today," he interrupted. He refused to meet her gaze, his warm fingers lingering on her flesh, causing a warm feeling to pool in her stomach. God she hated him.

She didn't want to remember how easily she had been subdued by that masked man and how much they had all failed because she was too busy being killed to be cooperative. She was so disappointed by herself that she didn't need Bucky to make it even worse.

He slowly brought the sponge up until it scraped against her cheek, drops of water clinging to her jaw. She winced at the small pain scattering along her flesh, but she also noticed how he seemed to flinch as well. She couldn't keep her mind from replaying their encounter earlier today, when he told her she should stay away from him. He had splayed his knuckles along her bare cheek that was now peppered with cuts and burns and bruises, a battlefield of wounds.

His thumb subtly brushed under her chin, where he pushed up until the blue of his eyes met the hazel of hers. "You're pretty beat up," he said slowly, his face closer than she had thought. "You're face is all cut and scraped, your arms are badly bruised, and you probably have a concussion."

"And bruised ribs," JARVIS said over the intercom.

"Thanks JARVIS," Addie mumbled sarcastically. Bucky gulped on his saliva.

"You shouldn't have come," he repeated, then he dropped her chin and continued to wash away the crimson from her face.

"You're the worst, James," she sighed tiredly, her eyes glazing over.

He smiled and she realized it was probably the first time she saw him smiling like that; so mundane and effortless, the corners of his mouth crinkling slightly, adorable dimples in his cheeks. She had never imagined a happy Bucky, one full of smiles and jokes. She had only seen and thought of the Bucky that frowns and says words that burn more than fire and grabs her harshly by the arm. She realized now that he was so gentle, his fingertips barely grazing her skin, afraid to hurt her, and now he was _smiling_.

"I hate you," she said blandly, her eyes focused on him.

He shrugged. "At least you're eyes aren't swollen."


	10. Chapter 9

**Katie123: I really hope you stick with this story because yes I agree, she may sound like a Mary Sue, and trust me, there is nothing I hate more in stories than a Mary Sue. I have darkness planned for her, and that is why I'm saying "you gotta stick with me!" This chapter is nothing major, but important for the plot. I really really like REALLY like your reviews because I use your comments and ideas as I write. So thank you for reviewing and I hope you like this chapter.**

 **IamsebastianstanButter: yes that was a typo.**

Chapter nine: Rebarbative

The mat resounded with the sound of a body being harshly thrown to the ground. She never knew how hard she could catapult someone until she had successfully thrown Sam over her shoulder.

"Damn girl," he whined. He had sweat glistening on his forehead, sliding down his temples. His face was contorted in many different variations of pain as he begrudgingly climbed back onto his feet, breathless and tired.

Addie herself was not on her best appearance. Her curly dark hair was sloppily hanging in a ponytail on the right side of her head and she had flyaway hairs stuck to her cheeks and forehead. Sweat had managed to get in every single fold and crevice of her body, and her t-shirt was sticking to her body like glue.

"Again," she ordered, her voice wavering somewhere between breathlessness and determination. She locked eyes with Sam, her hands in fists in front of her face, standing slightly turned and shoulder width apart.

"We've been at this for hours now," Sam breathed. "Let's take a break."

"You're a pussy, come on!" she exclaimed, stepping in for a punch. She got him in the ribs, her knuckles ringing against bone. He winced but tapped her hand away, obviously tired. There was no trace of humor on her face, no glint of wit in her hazel eyes. Her jaw was clenched, teeth gritting against each other. "Hit me," she growled.

Sam shook his head, taking small steps back, his breath wheezing out of his lungs. "Let's just take a water break, birdie," he suggested, his voice low and tentative.

Addie looked around in feigned astonishment. The gym was remotely empty for a Saturday morning; not one of the other Avengers was training either on the mats, the treadmills, or the punching bags. It was a little passed ten in the morning, which was a rare time for the gym to be empty.

"I'm going to kick your ass, Wilson," she growled, her jaw twitching with anger. She charged for him, but instead of throwing a punch back or counterattacking, he simply stepped out of the way.

Sam shrugged apathetically. Addie had thrown herself into training like a mad dog ever since the epic failure at the industrial plant two weeks ago. She had transformed into something terrible, obsessed with perfection and achievement. There was never a day where she didn't spend five to six hours in the gym, training in various dangerous techniques and pushing her body to the limit. She took on anyone who was willing to accept a challenge. She was, however, not humorous in the way she trained, often purposefully hurting her partner and being outright rude; inciting a fight. Wanda and Scott had been the firsts to give up on Addie's savage and outrageous obsession with training. Clint had offered to coach her in computers, which he assured was a way for the girl to relax and let off steam some other way. Steve and Sam, however, were powerless in refusing to fight with her.

"You need to relax," Sam said, brows crawling up his sweaty forehead.

"You need to shut the hell up and fight with me," the brunette growled back, her teeth bared like a wolf.

Sam shook his head, hands on his hips. She had been driving him crazy, acting as if there was nothing of more importance than fighting. She talked of nothing but that, insisted they do nothing but quarrel. She was utterly obsessed with training. Even in the early hours of morning, Sam would find her in the gym on a treadmill, at the punching bags, or outside with Bucky shooting guns.

"Take it easy, Addison," Sam whispered.

"I'm not going to _take it easy_ , Sam!" she barked, her easy glistening with acrimony. "I need to get better!"

Sam rolled his eyes with a low growl rising in his chest. "You are getting better!" he answered. "Stop throwing yourself into training and putting everyone around you at arms length."

Addie huffed, waving him away like there was a fly in her face. She reached for the strings on the side of the fighting rink and slid between them, officially calling the training session to an end.

"You know!" Sam called after her as she stomped away, her messy ponytail swinging behind her head. "Everyone here thinks I'm right! You don't have to prove to us you're better and-"

She cut him off by slamming the heavy metal gym door shut, the sound reverberating on the walls of the bathroom she now found herself in. She leaned her back against the door, her head knocking against the metal. Her chest heaved as she breathed in heavily, her eyes closed, jaw clenched.

Steve kept telling her that she hadn't failed, but that she had _learned_. Bullshit. There was nothing to learn from bruised ribs, swollen lips, and cuts all over her face. Instead, she bore the scars of her failure, which reminded her everyday that in that moment, she had been so full of herself, so sure of victory that it had almost ended in her death. She had healed significantly fast; her scars had stayed an angry red for no more than three days, and by the end of the first week, they were pastel pink and almost melded with her skin. Except for a particularly red gash over her brow that would forever stay imprinted in her flesh.

She knew all this fast healing and strength was from the serum Wanda told her about. She had asked Clint and Steve to tell her more, revealing she had in fact been injected. She finally read her own file. There was something haunting in the photo that HYDRA had of her, a picture she had never seen before. Steve said they had probably snapped the picture when Addie was with HYDRA. There were lists upon lists of experiments directed on her of which she had no memory of. Pages and pages of notes and feedback about her progress was what made the file so thick.

 **Subject x98 has successfully passed experiment 1738.**

 **Subject x98 has failed experiment Z70. Must be wiped. Return to the oven.**

"What's the oven?" she had asked, her brows furrowed in confusion.

"I think that's where they would wipe your memory and reprogram you with whatever they wanted you to learn," Steve had mumbled back, leaning over in his chair so his saddened blue eyes could look into hers.

 **Subject x98 has commenced experiment Y00. Serum injected. Gene isolated.**

She had almost thrown the file at arms length. There notes in the margins about how "well" she had performed on several cognitive evaluations and physical tests. She hated those people; people that had torn her life apart.

"Don't let this play with your mind, birdie," Steve had whispered, his delicate hand reaching for hers.

Addie decided now was a good time for a scorching hot shower. She ignored the past that was knocking at her door, instead opting for a lavender smelling body wash and shampoo. Even though she had spent the last two weeks sobbing under the hot jet of water, now she was just standing there, her eyes fixed on the marble grey walls. Bubbles glistened down the length of her body, hiding the various array of bruises that marked her skin like a map. Her dark wet hair clung to her neck. The hot water relaxed her tensed muscles, making her skin the color of pale blood.

She scrubbed along her glittering skin, the soap sending a nice smelling aura around her. Steam rose off her skin like smoke as she took the time to massage her scalp and exfoliate her skin. Then she reached over the semi-transparent door and gripped for the woolen towel, wrapping it around her humid body. She turned the water off, stepping out of the shower into the frigid air of the bathroom.

Her heart almost wrenched out of her chest when she spotted the lonely figure lingering by the entry of the bathroom, the one that led from the gym. She gripped the towel over her chest, a yelp escaping her mouth.

"What the fuck, Bucky!" she yelled, almost slipping on the humid floor. Her cheeks flushed with red so crimson she could compete with tomatoes.

He stood there, startled as if he was a child being caught with his hand in the cookie jar. His mouth was parted in surprise, his enigmatic blue eyes wide open, cheeks tinged with red. He had an especially hard time keeping his eyes on her face as he shuffled from one foot to the other, his fingers fidgeting in angst.

"What are you doing in here!?" she shouted again, her chest heaving, her mind going all over the place; in places it shouldn't go.

He was wearing a white tank top and grey sweatpants, and by the way his tanned skin was glowing with sweat, she could tell he had been outside. He often shot guns in the morning and if Addie didn't ask for training, he'd work on the land with Steve and Clint.

"Answer me, God dammit!" she shouted again, startling him even more. "Why are you in here gawking like a seventeen year old boy!?" It was the first time she had seen him at a lost for words, his eyes wide with fear and embarrassment.

"Jesus, relax," he mumbled and he finally took those daring blue eyes off of her. She let out a breath, feeling like his eyes had poked holes in the shield she kept up. His presence was making her skin prickle with something unknown and her stomach was pooling with a warmth that sent tingles to her toes. She hated him so much she felt it in her body.

"Get out, oh my God," she growled, shuffling on her feet, the water sloshing around her toes.

"No," he mumbled back, his eyes going anywhere but _there_. "I need a shower too."

He took his bottom lip between his teeth and Addie felt like frying him right then and there with her electricity. Her body was reacting in ways she refused to acknowledge, which made her anger peak. The lights overhead flickered, drawing Bucky's attention.

"I'm going to go shower now," he said, gesturing to the other stalls, clearing his throat as he moved carefully. He passed dangerously close to her, making her skin react with pigments of red.

"Yeah, you do that," she said, her voice timid, a shiver slicing down her spine like liquid fire. She watched him carefully as he moved, his arms coated in a sheen layer of sweat, his face adorning a week long stubble, and his hair messy and tangled. She wanted to look away, really, she did, but he was like a magnet to her metal and the more she watched him the more that warm feeling in her tummy intensified. His metal arm reflected the glinting light, the plates calibrating and moving. He reached into a stall with his metal limb, opening the water in a graceful gesture. When he turned back, his eyes found hers in a beat, making her look away quickly.

She headed for the locker where she left her clothes, but before she could get there, Bucky called her name. She turned on her heel, her cheeks burning, her lips pinched together.

"You called me Bucky," he said, and a ghost of a smirk stretched his lips, but she had no time to fully admire it as she stomped right out of the bathroom.

* * *

The next evening, she was sitting with the whole gang, their heads bent over spaghetti that Steve and Clint so professionally cooked. They were enjoying pleasant chatter, but the girl was trying her best to avoid any eye contact with Bucky. She still had the image of him, staring wide-eyed, cheeks flushed, looking as surprised as ever.

"We should get a toaster oven," Scott commented, his fork chubby with spaghetti.

"That's the best idea I've heard today," Wanda answered, her mouth full, red sauce on the corners of her mouth. She was nodding vehemently, her big blue eyes glistening with content. It was nights like these, spent sitting around the table with food stuffed in their mouths, that they all felt as normal as they could ever be.

"Losers, we already have a toaster," Sam added, his own fork pointed upwards.

"We could do so much more with a toaster oven, Sammy," Addie said with a smirk.

"What we really need," Sam interjected, taking his sweat time to swallow his food, "is a new fridge."

"Don't start with that," Steve grumbled.

"I mean, we are seven here and that fridge does not store enough food for all of us," Sam continued, talking as if he was on a Judge Judy episode. "And it squeaks on its hinges." The table erupted in subtle laughter. "I don't know what kind of old appliances Tony gave us, but they squeaky."

Addie smiled and rolled her eyes, but when she looked at Steve, he was looking at his plate with a serious look on his face. "Speaking of Tony," he said solemnly.

"Shit," Wanda mumbled, her eyes turning from bright to somber blue. There was never a long moment of normality. Their lives were plagued with tiny moments like these, which were always interrupted by the real matters lingering not far out of reach.

"He said he went to investigate the plant we were at a couple weeks ago," he started, wringing his hands nervously, risking a look at Addie. "He didn't find anything. Not a trace of life. Whoever had been there picked up their dead bodies and sauntered out of there."

"They must have left _something_ behind," Scott said, his brows furrowing.

"They did actually," Steve answered. "They left a half burnt map. They hung it over something and put tacks in them. Tony found holes on the map and he thinks that indicates more bases. He also thinks we should do some investigation of our own."

"You seem to agree a lot with what Tony thinks," Sam grumbled under his breath.

"I do, yes," Cap answered rather brusquely. Addie risked a look at where Bucky was silently eating, wearing a black woolen shirt. His eyes were concentrated on his meal, but his hands were gripping his utensils. "We have no idea what Loki wants with HYDRA. We are the ones in the dark and unless we find out _something_ , we'll get blindsided."

"We need to know what he wants with Addie," Clint added lowly, his timid eyes locking with Addie's. She knew he had been in Montreal, so it was no surprise to her when her name came up along with the alleged alien tyrant.

"It's like a fucking scattered puzzle," Addie grumbled, massaging her temples.

"Yes, and when we make a connection," Steve said, "it'll be easier for us."

"So what's the plan?" she asked. Everyone looked at her surprisingly, their eyes speaking more than their mouths. She felt the blood rise to her cheeks, her mouth twisting as she realized what they all must be thinking. "I'm not going to hide here because I got a few cuts and bruises last time."

"Correction," Wanda said, her pointer finger up, "you almost _died_."

"That's besides the point," she mumbled back, crossing her arms over her chest. "I'm alive now. And I got better."

"Yeah by being a bitch," Sam grumbled, still not over how easy Addie had thrown him over her shoulder yesterday.

"So," Steve said before things could get out of hand, "we will be going to California soon, probably Friday."

"There's underground tunnels that Tony said were in construction, but the city has barely any legal records of it," Clint added. "Something's fishy."

"Alright, let's get a hard on for jungle fever!" Scott laughed.

They ended dinner on quite the humorous note and proceeded to dishes as always. It's crazy how normal, stupid daily things could get these somewhat abnormal beings to collaborate intricately. They had this thing going; a routine, whether it be dishes or not. Even Addie, as she stepped away from the group to observe them, she could see how everything about them was routine, inbred in their friendship. They knew each other on levels unimaginable; they had delved in each others' pasts and there was not a trace of maliciousness between them. They were incredible human beings, normal and abnormal, huge and small, crazy and silent. They threw water at each other and shoved one another, but they all knew how dangerous life could be, and that is what made them all enjoy small moments like those.

She was startled when she saw a shadow on the wall from where she was silently observing her friends. She turned to face a freshly shaved Bucky, his face smooth. He gave her a sideways smirk, his eyes tired from the harsh day.

"You don't have to come with us to California, you know," he said casually, leaning his shoulder on the wall. She turned her back to him, effectively hiding how red her face became. She still thought about their encounter in the bathroom yesterday and she hated how much she reacted to something so girly and trivial.

"Shut up," she mumbled. Her hair curled around her face and fell down her back in a cascade of midnight waves. Bucky leaned in slightly, his eye catching the glistening of her hair in the warm glow of the kitchen.

"You don't have to prove anything to us," he continued, his voice quiet.

"And you don't have to talk to me," she answered. "You told me to stay away from you in the plane. You keep your distances. You're cold and conceded, so you can eat shit for all I care." Her choice of words left him a bit wary of her mental state. She kept her eyes glued to her friends but she didn't see them. Her mind was preoccupied with the man who was too close to her.

"I'm sorry about yesterday," he mumbled. She felt his breath on her hair and a shiver passed through her body. Bucky could see the goosebumps on her neck. "I didn't mean to startle you."

"Whatever, James," she sighed, turning to face him, realizing how _close_ he was. "I'm over it." She made to walk passed him, but he effortlessly stepped in front of her, blocking her with his body. She looked up from under her lashes, her jaw clenched, eyes alight with anger.

It ticked her off just how close he was. He stood over her, his chin almost touching the top of her hair and it made her skin crawl. She could feel the very visible blue rivers of energy glittering under her pale flesh. His eyes clicked to her neck, where he could clearly see how affected she was. He saw her pulse, straining against her skin. He saw the light blue under her veins and he rose a brow, a sly smirk playing on his lips. "Nervous?"

"Shut the hell up," she said through clenched teeth. Her heart was subtly gaining rhythm, throbbing in her throat and in her ears. The hairs on her arms and at the back of her neck rose.

"Come on, Addie," he whispered, his eyes checking over her head if their friends had seen anything. "I'm not saying I don't want you to come with us. I'm saying you don't have to throw yourself in the fight right now." He reached out and seemed to think twice about it, his eyes shyly searching her own.

"I'm going to go whether you want to or not," she growled back. "And I'm not doing it to prove anything to you or Wanda or Steve or _anyone_." She dug her nails into her palms, knowing her skin would be marked with crimson.

"You're not as strong as you try to let everyone know," he spat, his face morphing into disgust. "I've never seen someone as falsely confident as you. You're going to get yourself killed and drag us all down with you."

"What is wrong with you?" she barked back, her face coming closer to his own, her eyes boring into the rich velvet blue of his. "Seriously. You need to get a grip of how you feel. You always give me two sides to the mask, and frankly, I'm fucking tired of it."

He sighed through his nose, his eyes glazing over in apathy. "I'm just trying to make you see that you saunter around here like your fists are stronger than your electricity."

"What are you trying to say?" she asked, her mouth twisting into something between angry and curious.

"Maybe," he started, and he leaned in like he had the biggest secret to tell her, "you should concentrate more on your electricity than your physical training." His mouth grazed the shell of her ear, his hot breath warming her skin. The feeling of liquid fire returned to her stomach and she gulped.

She felt like her emotions had been thrown in the blender. "This conversation isn't going anywhere," she said blandly as he leaned away, his head tilting slightly. "You make me want to puke."

"Lovely."

"That doesn't mean I won't go to California, James," she sighed. "I'll be there to bug the shit out of you."

He shrugged with a nonchalant smile on his lips and walked by her, leaving her to stare down the hallway, her heart raging against her breastbone.

* * *

Thursday morning, she sat with Wanda in the grass, their long brown hair gently swaying in the wind. Their eyes stared down the little valley while the warm rising sun patted their glowing skin. They had picked a warm morning to attempt training; the air was leading to believe that the day would be humid and heavy, while the sun promised a very hot afternoon and an even hotter night.

"So how do you want to start?" Wanda asked, her mouth twisted in a humorous smile.

"I don't know, maybe we should touch fingers," Addie responded sarcastically. Wanda laughed, hitting her friend in the shoulder.

"Yeah, then we can mold into each other to create one big and great super hero," she laughed.

"That's the dumbest shit I've ever heard," Addie grumbled, but nonetheless, she had a smile on her lips.

"Oh my God," Wanda sighed. "Okay. Tell me what you want to practice with your... your power."

Addie shrugged, looking out towards the sky again. She had never really used her electricity on a grand scale. She had used it for the minimal and small cases, like turning on or off appliances or taping into a cellphone conversation. She hadn't ever had the need to really use it for something drastic, until Florida, when she had fried that guy.

"I have no idea, Wanda," she admitted. "I haven't had to use it to end the world yet."

"I love how you had to say yet," the other girl giggled. "But I know what we'll do first."

"Don't make me kill someone," Addie grumbled as both the girls got on their feet, patting themselves down.

"Listen," Wanda started, her eyes squinting against the hot rays, "when I first started mingling with my power, I was terribly scared of it. I was scared that once I let it out, let it _all_ out, I would lose control. I would generate something unstoppable."

Addie nodded, wiping a loose strand of dark hair away from her eyes. "But once you did, you figured out it was like playing with Play-Doh."

Wanda's lips stretched into a wide smile, teeth and all. "Not exactly, but yes, you get the point."

Addie shook her head like there were a million flies buzzing around it. There was no way in hell that she would let all that energy out of her. There was a chance that she could control it, but there were more chances that she would wipe the entire continent.

Wanda reached out, a delicate hand resting on the other girl's elbow, seeing the chaos in the hazel brown of her eyes. "Maybe we could try just a little, right?" she said calmly.

Addie shrugged. "I can show you something," she answered. The other girl nodded, lips stretched into a sympathetic smile.

Addie lifted her left hand up before her, brown eyes concentrated on her palm. There was a slight tingle in the air, like static crackling among the atoms, as the girl focused her energy like she had practiced many times before. Slowly, and carefully, the palm of her hand lit up, glowing faintly. The blue light reflected in her pupils as the energy grew. She was creating a small, refined ball of electrical impulses, buzzing and sizzling in her palm. She strained against the whispers and the calls of everything electrical. Her senses were raw as she felt and heard all the murmurs, patting against her ears, begging silently.

"I think I know what you can hear," Wanda whispered, and when Addie flicked her eyes up, she saw the girl wide-eyed with surprise. "I can... I can hear it." Her face contorted in a frown, eyes alight with curiosity.

Addie was beginning to feel the usual familiar ease of her energy, her brain not as cloudy, her senses raw but _aware_. When she looked around, she could see things she could not usually see. Feel things that were usually fiction.

"Addie, I can feel it," Wanda whispered again, taking a tentative step forward. She raised her right hand, crimson ribbons of magic spiraling between her fingers. Addie's eyes widened, her heart racing violently in her chest. "I can mold it, like my own."

Addie played with it, stretching it in and out, the electrical impulses spanning over her arms and fingers, then focusing back into her palm. It was a real marvel to look at. She cupped her two hands together, holding her little ball inside her two hands.

She saw the string of red before she could react, her own electricity becoming victim to the magic of Wanda. Slowly, the crimson mixed with the electric blue, turning the glow into a purple magenta color. The violet burnt bright, cold blue at the center and rich red around the rim of the ball.

"Wanda, what is this?" she asked, her brown orbs wide as she stared between Wanda and the ball of condensed magic and electricity in her palm. "What have we done?"

Wanda smiled; a smile that meant more than anything. They were like a puzzle, once broken and now put together. What had been so brutally given to them through force and blood resulted in their kinship. They were a force to be reckoned with now, and nothing could stand in their way.

 **Now here I have established how Wanda and Addie will work together. You can all probably guess how.**


	11. Chapter 10

**I am hopping this chapter satiates some of your hunger. Thank you for all your lovely reviews.**

Chapter ten: Confabulation

With one day until their extraction to California, Addie found herself once again in the gym, sometime after dinner. She was facing Wanda in a one on one combat, their hair already sweaty, their clothes sticking to their bodies. She was taking it easy this time; easier than the other times she had roughly fought with the girl. There was no use in throwing herself harshly into the fight. If she was made to improve, she would in due time.

"Have you given more thoughts to California?" Wanda asked, breathless. She threw a rough punch, easily evaded by the other girl.

"What is there to give more thoughts to?" Addie asked. They tumbled some more, roughly scuffling, grunts and groans falling from their mouths. Wanda had an advantage being slightly smaller than Addison, yet the latter was very fast and rapid, her punches quick and baffling.

"I meant to say," Wanda breathed, "we should think about how we're going to work together, if anything happens."

Addie shrugged, which gave Wanda an open door to take her down. The brunette hit the ground with a loud thud, her skull making breathtaking contact with the floor. She groaned loudly, her eyes closed, little lights exploding behind her lids. "I think we can just do what we practiced the other day."

When Addison got to her feet, she saw the red crimson ribbons of magic seeping from Wanda's hands. Her fingers curled, claw-like, as she made her way gently around the other girl. "I still can't believe how well it mingles," Wanda huffed, her magic reaching out until it patted against Addison's flesh.

Addison sighed yet nonetheless, like last night, she let her electricity fall from the hold she usually had on it. Bolts slowly dotted her skin like a web, the electric blue color illuminating her features, her fingertips zapping with burning hot lightning. She let the electricity run along the span of her body, but she collected enough to hold in the palm of her hand. The glittering sphere shone in her irises, and as she rose her eyes, she spotted a lone figure leaning in the doorway.

Wanda's magic had mingled well enough with Addie's electricity to let Steve know what was going on. He frowned so deeply that his face became unrecognizable. He slowly made his way to where they were standing, breathless, sweaty, and full of violent purple electricity and magic.

"What the hell," he muttered.

"Language."

Addie's smile was so strained and forced that Steve could not hold back his laughter. He continued to watch them, frozen as if caught red-handed, their powers melted into each other. "This is a sight to take in," he said, a disturbed smirk on his lips.

"We were going to tell you," Wanda muttered, her big blue eyes round and innocent. "We just had to figure it out first."

"Show me what you got, girls," he laughed, his face still somewhat disturbed by what he was seeing.

Wanda turned her stare to Addie, her eyes questioning and still so beautifully blue. Addie raised her electricity, the glowing sphere in her hand growing in size. She powered it with enough energy so that it glowed and burned slowly, rising inches from her palm, the air around it shimmering with heat. "She can easily propel her own electricity," Wanda started, "but I can help dissipate it."

"And I can charge her own power to make it ten times more deadly," Addie added, a satisfied smile on her face when the lights flickered overhead. "Instead of just moving things with her mind, she can also fry them or charge them. Then I can make them Kaboom."

The little violet sphere in her palm moved, becoming less of a ball and more of a pool of energy. The more Wanda stretched it out, the more the electricity became like a web of violet sparks, growing around their heads, charged and dangerous. "I can hear and see all that she can when she let's her power out," Wanda said, her voice struggling slightly. "I can span her energy into molecular form, spreading it through the air, making her power more deadly if she chose to."

"I still have the final say in what I do," Addie said, her electricity seeping from her fingers, completely disregarding the web of sparks around her, "and when it comes to her own, Wanda has the final say too."

The power of their team work was overwhelming for both of them, but at the same time, it was empowering. No one could stop them now. Wanda's magic could be deadly and electrical while Addie's bolts could span as far as Wanda could send it, creating an aura of danger. They were now an unstoppable team.

Steve's mouth hung open on its hinges, his own mind working wonders. "We need to show it to the others."

And indeed, it was like throwing all the Avenger's emotions into a blender. Once they had all seen what Wanda and Addie could do together, they were shouts and screams and wishes that they be careful and wishes that they destroy HYDRA. Clint and Sam agreed with Cap that their collaboration should only be used in drastic measures, as it could be extremely dangerous, especially if both lost control. Scott was still asking just how Addison could spurt electric bolts from her fingers. However, they did make a concrete deal that they would only use that much power with each other when it was a matter of life or death only, because such power was unimaginable, inconceivable, and even the handlers of such power could lose total control. Yet what Addie feared the most, once she had snuggled into bed that night, was that much power could send someone into a spiral of confidence that could end in darkness.

* * *

There was something very ecstatic about working with someone else; being able to _share_ energy with someone else. Bearing the weight of such power on her shoulders proved to be heavy, weighing her down. She could now share the blame with someone else if her power was the source of a conflict or worse, the source of a catastrophe. There was something eye-opening now that she was not alone in holding the weight of all that power on her shoulders. She was not ultimately alone now.

However, there were still stagnant subjects filling her mind to the brink. She was plagued with thoughts of California, followed by vivid images of her failure in Florida. She knew that, even with two weeks of intense training, there was only a slight change in how she fought. She thought she could get better fast, reach everyone's level, but in reality, she was growing at her rate. And let's face it, the only reason why Addie had thrown herself into training was because she was ashamed of how easy she was beaten. She watched all of them, those Avengers, fight like they were born with a _Sensai_ at their side. They fought like all they had done all their lives was fight, from breakfast to dinner and on. They were incredible fighters, worshipers of the art of war, and she dragged along, desperately reaching for the same level that they all stood on. The real reason why she was still awake at two in the morning was because she wasn't as good as all of them.

She tossed out of bed, dragging her feet out of her room and into the dark hallway. Her mind was buzzing with thoughts. Was it really worth it to have her be a part of the Avengers? Despite her electricity and the fact she had once been a HYDRA captive, there was nothing else binding her to the team. There was nothing _more_ that she could bring to the team except her whining and her sulking.

She headed down to the kitchen, the marble floors frigid on her bare feet. The house was dark, the moonlight illuminating the room with a milky white glow. The utter silence was comforting and the cool air coming from the AC was brushing against her humid skin. She wandered into the kitchen, grabbing the fridge door open. It squeaked on its hinges, which made the brunette smile. There was nothing appealing inside the fridge; only leftover spaghetti and hot chicken, and those weird shakes that Steve takes in the morning. Besides all of those, there were just ingredients to _make_ things. And let's face it again, Addie was not in the mood to make food at two in the morning.

The door closed with a slight _thud_ as the girl moved to the cabinets. She rummaged through the shelves like she rummages through her mind at night. Her fingers skimmed along the shelves until her hand came along something smooth and cold. She frowned, wrapping her fingers around the neck of the bottle and slowly taking it out. A red Californian wine lay in her palm, not opened, old of about seventy years.

Quickly, she took a wine glass out and effortlessly uncorked the wine, pouring herself a generous amount. She put the bottle back in the shelf, but as she looked at the porch outside, she shrugged. "Fuck it," she mumbled to herself, grabbing the bottle and her glass, making her way outside onto the back porch.

The midnight air was cool, yet the undertones of the wind led to believe there was rain coming. She was happy for her long grey sweatpants and for her long-sleeved crop top that showed the smooth planes of her stomach. Her hair delicately flew in the wind, dark locks scraping against pale flesh. She put the bottle on the ledge of the rail, her glass in her right hand, elbows on the rail. She sipped her wine, the odor reaching her nose before the taste could satisfy her tongue. The tingle of heat reached her stomach, the familiar heat invading her body.

Time passed slowly as she kept her hazel eyes on the horizon, the wine having effect more than she wished. Her cheeks were hot, tinged with red when she sighed and decided she was done looking at the horizon. She leaned her back against the railing, finishing her second glass of wine. She was about to pour herself a third glass when the backdoor squeaked open.

She knew how she must have looked; messy, knotty hair in the wind with a bottle of wine, alone in the middle of the night, drinking like she had once been an alcoholic. She knew the addition of faded pajamas and dark circles under her eyes was not leading to a very profitable equation.

But Bucky himself was not a respectable sight to take in. His long charcoal hair was messy, knotted, and needed a good wash. His once smooth skin now showed a two day old stubble and his eyes were still swollen with sleep. He stood there in the doorway, the ghostly glow of the moon creating an odd shadow behind him. He wore black sweatpants and a dark red t-shirt that made the glint of his metal arm even more visible.

"Thought leaving my wine in the open would attract scavengers," he mumbled, his voice roach with sleep. He took a tentative step forward, igniting the fire that rose in her cheeks. He looked at her, almost asking permission, and when she didn't utter anything reproachful, he closed the door behind him.

"I didn't know you were an alcoholic," she said, feeling her mouth numb with how much wine she had drank, and let's face it one more time, she was a lightweight. He chuckled, making his way slowly to where she stood. He was directly in front of her when she took a reasonably long gulp of wine before wincing as it scorched its way down her throat. Before she could react, he reached out and snapped the glass from her hand, bringing it to his lips. He sipped it carefully, his enigmatic, burning blue eyes boring into hers.

"That's my Californian wine," he grumbled, leaning sideways until he saw the bottle that she was trying to hide behind her.

"Why are you awake?" she asked, glazing her eyes.

"Why are _you_?" he threw back. She sighed, her skin too hot with him this close to her. She grabbed the glass back, bringing it to her lips and indulging in the bitter taste.

"Couldn't sleep," she answered. He quirked a brow as he stepped aside from her, leaning his elbows on the railing beside her.

"Me too," he sighed, "and you're the worst at sneaking around. I heard you all the way into my deep sleep."

She smiled, the feeling warming up her face. The wine was really beginning to have the effect intended. She had intended to spend sometime outside until the wine took the awful thoughts away from her mind and she could finally sleep. She knew how she got under the effects of alcohol so she had not intended on having Bucky here, which would have made her stop all drinking if only she had known he was going to show up.

His flesh arm brushed slightly against her own, his extra warmth radiating onto her own skin. She was overheating, thankful for the cool wind brushing against her cheeks. "I wasn't trying to sneak around," she said, laughing. "It's not like I waited for everyone to be asleep to steal your wine."

"I would have," he chuckled. "I mean, this wine is delicious."

She cocked her head to the side, feeling those daring blue orbs of his burning holes in the side of her face. "So why aren't getting all angry-James on me right now?" she scoffed, bringing the wine back to her mouth, feeling the sting as the alcohol burned down to her stomach.

"Because I don't feel like it right now," he answered, shrugged as he stood straight, his hands gripping the rail. He could not, for the life of him, keep his eyes off of her. All this training had turned her soft body into a toned piece of art. Not that she had been awful to look at before, with those cute puffy cheeks and the soft curves, but now, the difference was alluring. The grey sweats clung to her legs and softly outlined the curve of her butt, which made his mouth water and his body react in ways he didn't remember it could.

Before he could do anything unimaginable, he grabbed the bottle and took a swing of the wine, feeling the harsh, bitter taste on his tongue. When he took the bottle away from his lips, he held it by the neck, dangling over the railing. Addie let out a chuckle, her eyes staring at the redness of his lips.

"Someone had a rough night," she giggled, her head woozy.

"More like a rough hundred years," he grumbled back, his dark blue eyes finding her own. Her skin felt alight with fire and she knew it was not only due to the wine. That dark red t-shirt, that looked like blood, worked wonders with the shape of his body, clinging to the curves of his shoulders and his arms, making his body a map of incredible treasures.

"Tell me about it," the brunette answered, gulping on her wine, officially finishing her glass. She held it in front of Bucky's face, offering a sweet smile that made his heart tumble around in his chest.

He had a vivid image of a girl he knew in the 40's; Dot. She was a fiery red-head with crimson lipstick always coating those sweet lips. She always wore her flaming hair in a twist behind her head, luscious and classic. She always dressed prudently, dresses and suits that went well with her figure, adding always the darling jewels, diamonds and pearls. Bucky had always considered Dot to be one of the most beautiful women he had ever seen. Dot could sing, and what a darling voice she had. She laughed with just the right amount of roughness, and her cheeks curved and dimpled, showing the bright blue color of her glittering eyes. Dot had always had a magnetic allure to her, drawing in all kinds of men, men like Bucky had once been. He remembered being drawn to her like water to the moon and he had wanted to hold her softly against him. She was sweet and endearing.

Yet the girl who stood in front of him in all her sleeping beauty had a different effect on him. He didn't want to hold her softly. He didn't want to make her smile sweetly and giggle and shove him while whining his name. She could not ever compare to Dot, but Addie drew him in differently. The effect of magnetism was different, as if she was drawing him in without wanting to. Her cheeks were splotched unequally with red, her eyes lazily closing and opening, glittering in the moonlight. Her dark locks were messily tossed on one side of her head, revealing an enticing pale neck. She was not at her most beautiful, that he knew, but there was something endearing about her still. Something that made his mouth water and his hands flex.

He filled up her glass and clinked it against the bottle. "Cheers," he mumbled.

"What the hell are we toasting for?" she asked, thick brows pulled together in a frown. She looked up at him, dark lashes rimming her eyes like eyeliner. He straightened again, looking over the valley of the backyard, his jaw clenched slightly. He wanted something from her, and he didn't know what, but it was driving him insane as he watched the corner of her lips quirk up.

"Let's toast to the fact that Steve is actually sleeping," he said, a smile on his lips.

"That's doesn't sound weird at all," she mumbled, but nonetheless, clinked her glass against his bottle and drank, her eyes never leaving his. She watched his reddened lips wrap around the tip of the bottle as he leaned back slightly, the wine filling his mouth. He took his darling time to swallow the alcohol, puckering his lips because he knew she was staring.

He set the bottle on the railing, close to her, so he could lean his left hand onto the railing next to her hip. He effortlessly stepped in front of her, hearing her gulp on her wine, as he gripped the railing on the other side of her with his right hand. He leaned in slowly, his face closing in on hers.

"Steve doesn't usually sleep a lot," he said, and this time, his tone was husky, purring in her ear. Her face was completely blushed, her pink lower lip caught slightly between her teeth.

Her heart viciously ripped against her chest, beating ferociously fast. Her blood ran wild, drowning in electricity and heat, boiling in her veins. Glowing rivers of electric blue swam under her flesh, the air static and stagnant with her power. He saw the distress but also the want in her eyes as he gripped the railing on each side of her body.

"That's a shame," she said, her voice trembling ever so slightly. "Sleep is the best thing ever."

"That's for you to say," he rasped back. "The girl that's awake at two in the morning, downing a whole bottle of wine to herself."

She cocked her head to the side again, inciting heat to pool into his stomach. "Hey, I'm not alone drinking this whole bottle, I'll let you know."

His body so close to her was driving her crazy. His hands were dangerously close to her hips, his eyes so daringly blue and gorgeous. He was pushing her over the edge.

She was completely taken by surprise by his behavior. She didn't know if it was the wine, but he was acting completely opposite to how he usually acts around her. He was daring and cocky and taunting, his body a toy in this little game of his. She was used to the hard, mean, and frowning Bucky, not the one that taunted her with his lip biting and crooked smirks.

"Yeah," he sighed, "you're not alone, are you?" It was his turn to cock his head to one side slightly and smirk.

Her lips parted, but no words came out of her mouth. She was completely taken aback as Bucky looked down between their bodies, his flesh hand coming to rest around her waist, his warm skin setting her own on fire.

A breath caught in her throat, her eyes widening ever the slightest. He reached once again for her, his metal hand grasping around the glass, taking it out of her hand and placing it a little further on the railing. He replaced his hand somewhat closer to her hip than before, his blue eyes grazing back up to her face.

"We should stop drinking," she said.

His head dipped slightly, a smirk pulling the right side of his mouth upwards. "Yeah, we should." Except he knew that alcohol could never have the same effect on him as it did her.

He didn't know what he was doing and why he was doing it, but the warm feeling in his stomach was telling him it wasn't wrong. Maybe it was the wine combined with sleep, or maybe just the magic of early morning hours. Maybe it was the fact that she looked so good in the ghostly shadow of the moon and the wine had turned her lips into a delicious dark red color. There was nothing concrete to explain why he was acting the way he was; why his body was reacting so foolishly to her.

The hand that was warmly resting on her waist slid across the smooth plane of her tummy, where he felt the static bolts lightly patting at his skin. Her eyes were wild, scorching with a heat so inviting and mouth watering. She was breathing heavily, her chest heaving, her neck taunt with nervousness. His metal hand slid across her cheek, the cool metal contrast against her flaming flesh. He let his metal thumb scrap against her soft lips, his eyes burning holes in her skin like a cigarette would. He slid his hand around her waist once again before his head dipped and he pressed his lips gently on hers.

She tried to keep the surprise from taking her, but the fire ravished her body and heat spanned across the length of her entirety. She felt the warmth pool in her stomach, igniting a fire deep within her as he slowly moved his mouth, inciting her to do the same. She closed her eyes, embracing the lovely feeling of his warmth invading her, wet lips softly moving against her own. His hand slightly gripped her hip, moving her closer to his body. She felt the heat of him against her, his cool metal palm pressing softly against her cheek, his thumb under her chin.

Her hands moved on their own, settling on his lower back, encouraging him to move closer. His lips became more fervent, pressing on her mouth with more force and less softness. His tongue swept across her lower lip, a darling squeak catching in her throat as she felt fingers grip her hips, moving her pelvis against his. The heat spreading from his body was making her mind whirl, her thoughts shambles as all she thought was the tingling and the heat polling between her legs.

He swept his tongue on her lower lip once again, his lips of a hunger indescribable as he nibbled her mouth. She let her lips part, his tongue assaulting hers in the most delicate of games. Her hands gripped his t-shirt, the fabric in a ball against her palms, as she tried to keep up with his hunger, his need to devour her entirely. She liked the feel of his mouth against hers, sweet and rough, tasting of wine. She instinctively reacted to him, gripping his shirt and pushing against his mouth, trying to get closer, to feel more of him, to taste much more than just his lips.

He was getting rougher, hungrier the more his mouth molded against her lips, drinking in that sweet taste of her. His tongue fought against hers for dominance. The feeling in his stomach, that tight coiling of hunger, drove him over the edge. His hand acted against his will, sliding from her waist to her belly, where the hot flesh met his fingertips. He felt her quiver against his touch, his lips and tongue devouring her. His fingers inched under the hem of her shirt, the ridges of her ribs like mountains under his palm. The more he touched her, the more he kissed her so urgently, the more her skin was stagnant with electricity. He could feel the slight jolts on his fingers, not enough to hurt him, but enough to let him know he was doing _something_ to her.

He was pleased to find out that she was not wearing a bra, access to his target being much easier than he previously thought. He traced the underside of her breast with his fingertips, the skin warm and soft. He continued to kiss her mouth with fervor, his teeth nibbling her bottom lip, his tongue dancing roughly with hers. He slid his fingertips gently to the side of her breast, where he could feel the goosebumps rising on her flesh. When he grasped her breast in the whole of his hand, he felt her stiffen ever the slightest, a moan lodged in her throat. He kneed and mold it the way he wanted, her body relaxing, filling with sensations that made the heat at her core intensify.

His metal hand found her hair, tangling in the dark locks as he kept her in place, his mouth still devouring every inch of hers, his wet lips a marvel on her delicate mouth. His hand, rough and hungry, continued to kneed and push at her chest, eliciting strangled sounds from her throat. He was tantalizing, his hand warm and rough, but his movements slow and gentle. He was keeping himself from doing more; doing what his mind was so fervently thinking of. She was trembling against him, the feeling too good to ignore.

He lazily swept his thumb over her hardened nipple and the sweetest, strangled yelp caught in her throat. He felt heat pool in his stomach, his hunger growing the more he wanted to rip that shirt from her body. His tongue savagely explored her mouth, while his thumb repeated the movement, his body marveling at the way her body was pressing hard against his, reacting to how he was making her feel.

He stopped himself before he could do anything he regretted, because he knew if he kept this up, if she kept making those noises, he would have taken her up to his bed, willingly or not.

He slowly inches his fingers from her top and lay small kisses on her lips until their need to breathe took over and they were just a breathless mess. Their foreheads touched, their breaths mingling in harmony. Her lips were red and swollen, her cheeks so crimson and hot. He'd never seen her so flustered. He was about to say something, anything to dissipate the emotion, because he was still fighting against his instincts. But she sighed and slightly pushed away from him.

"Now why did you have to do that?" And before he knew it, she was walking back into the house on slightly trembling legs.

 **sooooo ya. I said the word nipple.**

 **Early updates because finals are coming and so is my death.**


	12. Chapter 11

**Hey guys, sorry for the long wait until this chapter. I had warned you I was in exams and I really didn't have much time to squeeze in a little writing. But now everything's done and I'm ready for summer and I'm ready to get crunk as fuck. I'm also going to be updating more, probably once or twice a week, and regularly. Again, sorry for the long wait.**

 **I want to thank BeccaSco for the nice review on the latest chapter, and 17 Daybreak for the lovely and thoughtful review on the prologue. Thank you to the new followers and the new favoriters.**

 **Enjoy!**

Chapter eleven: Superlative

Like he had presumed, the morning of their extraction to California was rainy and grey. Fat drops of water had rushed onto the windowpanes of the house, the outside world a blur. The clouds were of a light ashen color, trapping sunlight, making the air cool and humid. As he trekked outside, his boots glossy with rainwater, he noticed how heavy and stagnant the air was; full of rain and humidity. A heavy weight settled over his chest and a mighty cough ripped from his throat as he approached the aircraft, his right hand clasped around the handle of a weapons bag. The grass scrunched delightfully under his boots as he watched Steve emerge from the mouth of the jet, clad in black jeans and a grey hoodie.

"We should head out very soon," Cap mentioned as he grabbed the bag from Bucky's extended wrist. Cap had a worried and esoteric look on his face, his expression torn between what he felt and what he _should_ feel. His fingertips were cold as they skimmed along Bucky's wrist, which was abnormal and rare for Steve.

"I told you it was stupid to wait until today," Bucky grumbled, resisting the urge to put his hands on his hips and scowl. Instead, his face pulled into a frown, his teeth baring for a split second. His eyes were burning with annoyance.

"It wasn't clever to jump right back into the belly of the beast so fast," Steve answered in a patronizing voice. He was trying to reason with Bucky's impulsive nature; a nature that brought him to do stupid things that Steve remembered very vividly.

"We waited and we let them run back with their tails between their legs and we gave them time to lick their wounds," Bucky gritted through clenched teeth, his jaw clenched, the shadow of a stubble clear in the grey light. "They know we were involved and they might as well have been given time to build a wall as they waited for us to storm their abandoned railways."

As Bucky expressed his thinking, Steve stomped down from the plane, closer to where his friend stood under a sheet of rain. The rain very quickly dotted Steve's forehead, making his hair flatten on his skull, but also made the endearingly red color of his lips and cheeks stand out. "We needed to lick our own wounds too, Bucky," he reasoned, his voice steady and grave. "Maybe you and I have enhancements that permit us to accomplish unbelievable feats, but the people in that house don't. They need time to get a grip on themselves. It's not easy for them like it is easy for you and I."

Up close, Steve could see the storm raging in his best friend's eyes. He was trying very hard to grip his bearings, to understand Steve's point of view. He was trying very hard to ignore what HYDRA had put in him. It was never easy for Bucky, yet what HYDRA had implemented in his mind turned him into an uncontrollable machine. He completely lost sight of who he really was when a gun was tucked against his shoulder. Even with all his work, even now, he had trouble being Bucky Barnes when the time called to be The Winter Soldier.

Bucky stormed off, his boots scrunching sloppily on the wet grass. On his way back into the house, he almost came face to face with Addison, who was carelessly tying her hair into a ponytail. He came so close to her that he caught sight of the freckles on her nose and the rosy color of her cheeks. And as quickly as she appeared, she hurried by him, carefully avoiding his eyes.

He stared after her, planted there on the back porch, rain slowly dotting his forehead. She was wearing a new suit, one that Steve insisted she wear as it was aerodynamic, flexible, and resistant to cuts. But that suit fit her like a glove, the black texture of it molding to her body, making Bucky gulp on a considerable lump of saliva. Her undaunted dark hair was messily sweeping behind her. She walked through the wet grass towards Steve, where she stood legs shoulder-width apart and arms crossed. Bucky avoided a glance by Cap just in time as he fled in through the back door, the cover of the house quickly drying the drops of water on his skin.

He couldn't stop his mind from reliving the night before. What he had done, and mostly, what he _hadn't done_. He hadn't stopped. He couldn't possibly stop; the more he felt her under him, the less control he had. She was warm and delicious and perfect, her lips pressed firmly against his, her hands tangled in his shirt. She tasted like wine and she felt so soft and tender under his skin. His mind had taken roads usually untraveled by him, thinking thoughts he shouldn't have. His hands had acted on their own, touching places he knew he shouldn't, but he couldn't stop himself. He wanted it so bad. It had taken all the willpower in him to stop himself from ripping her clothes off. It had taken all the control in him to keep him from completely losing it.

She was addicting. Bucky went back to bed with the taste of her lips on his, the feel of her skin still imprinted in his palms, the shape of her body still outlined against his. His mind was plagued with the sweet, tender color of her eyes, the crinkle of her skin when she smiled, and the way her plump little breast felt in his hand. To say the least, he hadn't slept very well if not at all.

Bucky gripped the last bag that was lounging the side of the garage door. He swung it over his shoulder, his brows pulled into a deep frown. He was almost too busy thinking things over that he almost missed Sam standing there, with his arms crossed, and a warning look on his face. His left eyebrow was raised so high, it might as well crawl off his forehead.

"You ready?" he asked, his eyes glazed over. Bucky stopped a reasonable distance away from Sam, but the look on the Falcon's face was leading to believe something was off.

"Are you?" Bucky asked, his voice gruff from the rain.

Sam shrugged nonchalantly. "Just keep your mind clear," he said, his eyes doing a once-over on Bucky. "We all need to thinking clearly out there."

Bucky gulped as he watched Sam walk out of the house. How could he possibly keep his mind as clear as day when he had the feel and images of Addison plaguing him like the black plague? There was something morally wrong with him, there had to be. There wasn't a time before where he was so itchy, as if his skin was not his own. He couldn't recall ever feeling that way; as if his chest was going to explode from excess pressure. He was going crazy.

Before coming downstairs that morning, he had checked for all the signs of injury, mostly brain injuries. He passed a light in his eyes to check his pupil dilation. He checked his hearing and his balance for any evidence of cranial abnormalities. He even checked his head for any bumps or cuts. He didn't have a concussion or an aneurysm. He was totally normal physically, yet he felt like he had swallowed a gallon of acid.

He walked back outside, where the rest of the team had gathered. His eyes involuntarily found the supple brunette lingering by the mouth of the jet, playing with her arsenal belt. He groomed himself to look apathetic, and not desperate, like he was truly feeling. When his eyes met hers, he knew that she was doing the same. The dark color of her eyes resonated control as she quickly looked away from him. He saw the vein pulsing in her throat, the little tinge of blue tinting her skin.

"The flight is around three hours long," Steve was saying. "We'll have time to suit up and to get ready. Once we land, there's a slight chance we're going to have to walk a while to get there. Don't be let down by the heat. I hear the underground tunnels are cold."

Bucky watched as everyone followed Steve inside, like dark shadows. Sam was shouldering his Falcon suit while Wanda was helping him, her lips stretched in a wicked smirk as she joked around. Scott was dressed in his own attire, his helmet cradled in his elbow.

He sighed, wishing there was a God up there that would take the aching feeling in his chest away. Climbing in behind his team, he was the last one in before the jet closed and lifted from the ground.

* * *

Addie sat away from everyone, in her own corner, away from the casual chitchat. She was bent over a knife, honing the blade, the light reflecting off the metallic color. The sound echoed in the darkness of the plane, sour in her ears. She had taken a liking to knives as she trained like a maniac over the last few weeks. Even with target practice and general training, she was more prone to picking up a knife than a gun. Not to mention she had deadly aim.

Addie felt focused, even more focused than Florida. Her mind was as sharp as her blade, concentrated on the mission. She felt ready, more ready than before. She wasn't soft and unaware. Now she was strong and she knew she had to put up a fight in order to make it. She wasn't afraid, and there was nothing that could budge her from the mental trance she was in.

Even Bucky had totally left her mind. She would not lie and say she hadn't thought of him as she had wondered back to bed last night, or rather, early this morning. She had tossed and turned, the burning feeling of his hands still imprinted in memory. She couldn't get the addicting taste of his lips out of her mind. He was a distraction, and that is why it was more than wrong to take it further with him. She was just beginning to fit in; she would not let herself be thrown off course by him.

"Hey birdie." She looked up to find Clint standing over her with a knowing smile. "Knives, huh?"

She cracked a smirk of her own. "Works well with electricity," she commented.

"I honestly thought you'd like arrows better," he said, taking a seat down beside her.

She scoffed. "I'm sorry I didn't join your club, Clint."

He bumped her shoulder with a laugh. "My club is rockin'!" he defended. "My kids love it."

"Do you guys wear pink on Wednesdays?" she asked, her eyes twinkling with comedy. He snorted, shaking his head like it was the dumbest thing he'd ever heard.

"My girl watched that movie, and let me tell you, that was the stupidest shit I've ever seen." He laughed, throwing his head back. Addie smiled, her fingers still nimbly working on her blades.

"D'you miss them?" she asked, avoiding her eyes from his. "Your family."

He sighed, pulling his knees up until he could rest his elbows on them. "Yeah," he said slowly. "I would give anything to go back to them. Hell, I'd give my bow and arrow to get them back. But I'm willing to bet secretary Ross has got them on twenty-four hour surveillance."

"Are you worried?" she asked.

"No," he said abruptly. "I know Laura has got them safe and sound. I doubt Ross would hurt them too."

Addie nodded, her jaw crunched as she tried to keep her thoughts from wondering to places she hasn't been to in a while. "Do you miss them?" Clint asked, his voice low, tentative.

"Who?" she asked, her throat feeling lumpy.

"Your parents."

She sighed deeply, stretching out her neck in a semblance of ignorance. In truth, she hadn't thought of her parents a lot lately. She held a sort of rancor against them, a grudge she just couldn't let go of. She knew there was something they knew that they refused to tell her. Something had happened to her that was not normal, and they hid it away from their own daughter. They put her through God knows what and fled her because whatever they had paid for or done, had turned into their nightmare. They moved as far away from her as they could and barely kept in touch with her. She was their daughter and they had abandoned her.

"I honestly couldn't give a shit what they do," she mumbled.

"Well, at least you're honest about it," Clint grumbled back, getting to his feet, his boots echoing on the metallic floor as she watched him walk away. She met the sparkling blue gaze of a particular soldier before she wrenched her eyes away.

* * *

They landed somewhere off the coast of the ocean, the air salty and smelling of algae. By then, it was early morning, the afternoon lingering not far ahead. The sun was beginning to heat the team the more it ascended in the sky. The air was clear of any rain, making it dry and uncomfortable.

They followed Steve's coordinates until they arrived at a gate, which blocked the access to a tunnel entry. The ground was paved, the entry to the tunnel a simple staircase leading into a mouth of darkness. Trucks were parked around the entrance and along the inside of the gate, making it simpler for them to find cover if needed. There was a good amount of garbage disposed everywhere along the ground, which led to believe there was little to no surveillance to the place. There were no engine sounds or any sounds that would indicate any sort of activity.

They climbed the gates in silence, regrouping along the edge of a cargo truck. Addie did a once over on her arsenal; her knives were safely tucked into her belt. Her two guns were holstered at her waist and on her right thigh respectively. The long sleeves of her suit were going to keep her warm in the tunnels, and right now, under the scorching sun, they were keeping her from sweating.

She remembered Steve was particularly insistent on making her have a suit for missions. He was insisting that suits would permit her to be homogeneous with the team, to "blend in". When he came in with a suit that Natasha had approved from wherever she was, Addie was impressed that it was also personally adapted for her, meaning electricity did not burn the suit and the suit kept her cool or warm depending on the temperature.

She was the first one to get her gun out, ready before the others. She leveled it to the ground, the way Bucky had taught her. She followed behind Steve, the rest of the team's echoing footsteps behind her. They lounged the sides of the trucks along the tarmac, their boots the only sound audible.

"There's no signs of any guards," Steve said through the coms. She looked around the edge of one truck, to where a tower loomed in the distance. She palmed around with her ability, for anything strange, for any source of electricity that was abnormal for an abandoned place.

"It's quiet out here, Rogers," Sam grumbled. "You sure we got the right place?"

Steve sighed loudly through the coms and was about to answer when Addie looked back to the group. "There's something down there," she said, loudly for them all to hear, pointing to where the stairs led into darkness. "There's a single unit of power down there and I'm pretty sure it's not the city guards having a beer pong challenge."

She saw Sam smirk at her creative humor, but she was more nervous than comedic to bathe in the intellectual word game she had just played. She could feel the little unit of energy eating at her the more she concentrated on it.

"If they're playing beer pong down there, I'm totally down to join them," Scott laughed, his helmet hiding a wide smirk.

"Alright guys," Steve said, "Let's go."

They marched behind him, slightly crouched, their weapons ready. They were all anticipating the unknown, like back in Florida, yet only Addie and Wanda knew there was no immediate danger. The only suspicious thing was the small unit of energy calling to her down in the tunnel.

Steve was the first to disappear into the dark tunnel, his whole figure being swallowed by the darkness. Addie heard his echoing footsteps in the obscurity, yet he had completely disappeared. Addie gulped quickly, looking back up to the sky, where the sun shone brightly over her. She shook her head to get the nagging thoughts from her mind and quickly stepped into the darkness.

She immediately felt the cool air wrap around her, her suit starting to act against the freshness of the tunnel. She felt the cloth tightening around her waist and her wrists, allowing the heat of the suit to remain around her torso. She breathed heavily, even though she had done no physical exertion, because of the density of the humid air in the tunnel. She took tentative steps in the dark, but the blackness was so absolute that she could not even see her hand inches from her face. Her eyes were round like saucers, desperately searching for anything in the darkness.

She felt something warm and soft against the inside of her wrist, and before she could react defensively, she heard Steve hushing her. "Hey, easy there, birdie," he whispered, an ounce of humor in his tone. "Here, take this." He slipped his hand into her own until she felt something metallic against her flesh. She wrapped her fingers around the length and pressed on a soft bump. A bright white light shone from her hand, illuminating the dirty, damp interior of the tunnel.

"This place reeks," Scott grumbled as he stumbled into the light of her flashlight. Addie looked behind her, the rest of the team pulling out flashlights of their own, except for Bucky. She remembered, as she watched him eyeing her, that Steve had once told her the serum that he and Bucky had been injected with gave them superior sight, hence why they had no problem in the dark.

Scott was right. The place smelled rotten, as if thousands of rats had died in the walls and their tiny bodies were decomposing. As Addie shone the light around, she illuminated the disgusting environment of the tunnel. The ground was slick with gutter water and a green substance that Addie wanted no part in.

She unknowingly led the team further into the tunnel, her flashlight still illuminating the way. Wanda walked on her right, her red ribbons of magic serving as her own personal flashlight. She knew Steve was on her left, with the rest of the team behind them, bringing up the rear. They seemed to be walking through an entrance hall, but the hall seemed to have been stopped mid-construction. Some walls were brick while some others were still wooden carcasses. On the far wall, there was another entrance with another set of stairs that led down. Addie shone her light down the stairs illuminating a platform for what would have been a subway station.

"What were these tunnels before they were abandoned?" she asked through the coms.

"It was supposed to be an underground alternative to moving around merchandise," Clint answered, his voice soft in her ear piece. "The city would have moved around some stuff like money or more expensive things, I guess. But the project stopped being funded a while back. The fishy thing is, many contractors would have torn the whole damn railway apart for a little amount of money, but the city refused to give it up."

"You really think the city of Santa Monica is in cahoots with HYDRA?" Scott asked gravely.

"There's a lot of things we don't know and can't possibly explain, Lang," Sam said, his voice patronizing.

"Whatever the reason for not tearing this dump apart is," Addie said through clenched teeth, "I want to know what HYDRA wants with it _now_."

"That's what we're about to find out," Wanda whispered, gesturing for Addie to take the first steps down.

The lower they went, the colder it was. Down in the underbelly of the railways, the dark was oppressing and heavy. The bright white light of her flashlight was dramatically shedding light on everything it touched. The first platform was empty of any evidence, the ground murky brown and the air silent and eerie. There was still something off, far in the distance, a throbbing source of energy that kept Addie on edge.

They met rats and homeless people that alike looked like garbage. They didn't pay much attention to the team of Avengers passing through, yet they still looked at them through tired, red eyes. They walked through the tunnels to emerge on the platforms to find nothing new. The ground was always muddy. The walls were stained with mold. Even one station name had been scratched to spell out Ikol.

Addie was beginning to question herself about the place actually being suspicious when she noticed the throbbing was extremely loud in her ears. She lowered her flashlight as they came out of the tunnel, turning it off as she stepped onto the platform.

Steve motioned for the others to do the same. Slowly, the platform went completely and utterly dark. "Steve, Bucky," she croaked. "Lead us to the end of the platform and then to the end of the tunnel. There's something on the other side."

"People, actually," Wanda whispered, outlined by the redness of her magic.

"Man, you spook me when you guys talk like that," Scott whined.

She felt the presence of someone beside her. A soft finger found her thumb and hooked around it. By the feel of the thumb, cold and smooth, she could only guess it was Bucky. Hidden in the darkness, the tender movement was oblivious to everyone except for her. She would have loved to see his face in that instant, as she felt him tug on her thumb with his index, the metallic plates of his hand scratching her flesh. She followed him in the dark, their feet barely whispering against the damp ground. She felt the others moving around her too, but what she could only really concentrate on was the feel of the cold metal on her hand, his own body not so far from hers.

It was the first time since she woke up that she let herself wonder. The time nor place did not call for her to be distracted as so, and yet, she couldn't keep the image of his mouth out of her head. She wondered what he would be like if she would want to get intimate with him. All she had seen from him was anger and annoyance. He was distance and as cold as his metal arm was. He was calculated, cunning, and sneaky, yet she couldn't image _that_ Bucky being the one who kissed her last night. She couldn't imagine him wrapping his arms around her and letting her lean her chin on his shoulder. There was no ounce of tenderness in him, no affliction in his eyes. He was a cold hard stone which no hammer nor nail could break through.

She followed Bucky down into the tunnel, her cheeks so hot she knew they must have been as red as blood. He kept holding her with his thumb, not quite touching her, but not quite letting her go either. She wanted to grab his face and tell him to stop making her feel like she was about to crumble to a million pieces and burst into flames. The more he kept looking as if he hadn't set her flesh on fire last night, the more she wanted to scream.

They arrived at what must have been the next platform, for Steve gave a small grunt and everyone crouched instinctively. Bucky still held his index firmly hooked around Addie's thumb, but now his knee was slightly grazing hers. She couldn't see anything, yet she knew he was facing her because the shallow breaths he was taking were brushing against her neck. She knew she must have looked like a deer caught in headlights to him; the man who can see in the dark. Her eyes were as round as a perfect circle, her pupils dilated as if she suffered a concussion, and her lips were parted.

She felt him lean in until his hot breath fanned her ear, shivers grazing over her skin. His flesh hand came to rest on her waist, just above her arsenal belt. If it hadn't been for the suit, Addie's skin would have melted. "Up we go," he whispered, so low she wasn't sure what he actually said.

She whispered his name, very, very low. The sound barely brushed his ears, yet he heard it because his movements completely stopped. He was frozen for what seemed like a second, his hands on her waist now, his nose brushing hers.

 _In this darkness_ , he thought, _no one would see_.

There was a violent moment where Addison wanted to crush her lips onto his. In this darkness, in the pit of blackness, she came face to face with what she really felt and wanted. The darkness had cast a cover over her, as if the others didn't exist and it was just Bucky and her.

Then the moment was gone and Bucky was hoisting her up as if she weighed nothing. He planted her feet on the solid ground, her breathing hitching as she felt how _sharply_ he set her down. A moment later, he climbed up himself, his fingers splaying over the soft underside of her wrist before completely closing around it. He led her away from the edge of the platform while she heard the others quietly climbing on. He kept a solid grip on her wrist as he led her through the darkness, her feet coming inches from his heels the more they ventured to the end of the platform.

"Addison," Steve murmured through the coms.

She had almost completely blocked out her mission. Almost. The throbbing came back to her the moment she let the sensation of Bucky's hand on her flesh leave her mind. The sharp sound flooded her ears and the sensation of snake-skin on her flesh came rushing back. She wrenched her wrist from Bucky's grasp, her eyes searching the darkness for any light. Like a blind person, her fingers found the wall, skimming along the broken bricks and tiles. Her palms then pressed firmly onto the wall, her senses as raw as cold meat.

"It's on the other side of this wall," she whispered.

"There must be a door somewhere," Clint commented. She felt dumb that she hadn't been keeping tabs on the mission, so lost in Bucky like a little schoolgirl.

"Up here," she heard Bucky whisper harshly. She followed his voice, her palms still pressed firmly on the wall. Her skin was damp and she felt the mud slithering under her nails. She would have bumped into Bucky if it wasn't for him grabbing her wrist again. "Is it here?" he asked, his voice controlled, no ounce of abnormality in his tone.

She trailed her hands along the wall, reaching out with her ability. She could feel the surge of power on the other side, the unit of energy throbbing, as if alone in a sea of darkness. "Yeah," she answered.

"Get in position," Bucky said calmly, pulling her by the wrist until she was behind him. The others gathered behind as well, crouched. She saw Wanda's red rivulets of magic seep from her fingers, ready for defense.

A squeak echoed in the darkness. The squeal of an old, rusty door being pulled open flooded her ears as she caught the first rays of light from inside the room. She squinted her eyes as she tried to decipher what was inside the room. Looking over Bucky's shoulder, it seemed as if the room they had just discovered was some sort of operating room, yet none of the machines she saw were operational. The light was from an oil lamp that was sitting above an old, dusty machine.

She got to her feet before everybody else, her eyes narrowing on the old machines, sitting there doing nothing. She stepped inside despite the small protestation from Bucky. When she looked at him, he was holding his gun ready, his brows pulled firmly in a frown. She didn't care if he wanted to protect her; that was his problem.

Her own gun was aimed at the floor, ready to fire, as she crept inside the operating room. Her eyes glanced from corner to corner, yet it looked more like a corridor than a room once she was inside. The walls on her left and right were closing in on her, the machines lining the walls until they disappeared around a corner. When she peered ahead, she spotted a dark figure hunched under another oil lamp.

Her first instinct made her drop to one knee, her weapon up, her eyes sharp on the person hunched abnormally against the wall. The others all lined in behind her, Steve on her right, his own weapon aimed. When she looked at him, she saw how concentrated he was. In his element. The soldier finally coming of use. She wondered what she looked like in that instant.

Steve motioned for her to cover him as he crept along the wall, his gun aimed skillfully at the figure. Addie crouched not far behind, her eyes sharply searching for any sharp or abnormal movements. The person was a man with short dark hair, his head titled to the side as if he was sleeping, his legs outstretched in front of him. His jaw was slacked, eyes closed, right hand opened upwards as it lay on the cold pavement floor.

"He's dead," Wanda said behind her, confirming everyone's suspicions.

Steve crouched in front of the body, his fingers pressing into the man's neck, searching for a pulse. Cap's blue eyes found Addie's, his eyebrows pulled upwards in a mixture of melancholy and confusion. "Someone's been here before us," he said, his voice clear, yet sharp. "His body is still warm."

The team was set on edge, their feet shuffling, hearts throbbing in their throats. "Any sign of how he died?" asked Clint as he walked in beside Addie, coming down on one knee beside her.

Steve searched the body, gripping on the man's bullet proof vest, turning his shoulder, examining the body for any wounds. He seemed to be coming short of any evidence until his clear blue eyes landed on a spot behind the mans neck. A smirk grew on his lips, as if he knew exactly what was going on. As if he found the missing piece of the puzzle. "Oh, I know who did this," he said, his voice echoing with a trace of humor. "He's been electrocuted."

Addie's eyes went from Steve to Clint, seeing the small smirk stretch on the latter's lips. "And who else uses electricity besides birdie?" he asked, his brow rising as his eyes found the said birdie.

"Natasha," she squeaked.

She relaxed, rolling her shoulders back into their sockets. Getting to her feet, the rest of the group imitated her as they all came to stand around Steve and the dead man. She seemed less tensed to know Nat might be here, or had been.

"Why would Tasha come here on her own?" Clint asked. "Even we knew it was risky going into a potential HYDRA liar all seven of us. Why would she come alone?"

Steve chuckled, his hands finding his belt as he continued to stare at the dead body below him. "There's one thing I've learned by working with Nat all these years," he chuckled. "Sometimes Nat has missions of her own." There was a hidden inside joke in the tone of his voice that everyone seemed to understand besides Addie.

She ignored them as they all stood there with goofy smiles on their faces, and followed the still throbbing source of energy that called to her. She held the gun in her right hand, her feet skidding quietly against the pavement ground. She rounded another corner and at the far end of it was another door. With her heart quickening in her chest, she reached for the door handle and pulled it opened, her gun coming to aim inside of the room.

She found Nat sitting on a low stool, washing a gun with a dirty cloth, a knowing smile on her face. Her fiery red hair was reflecting the light of a couple dozen oil lamps all sitting around the edge of the room. The dove color of her flesh seemed more white in contrast to her dark red lips and sharp blue eyes as her mouth became open to form a small "O".

"Took you long enough." Her sultry voice floated up to Addie's ears, unarmed or chaotic. Her eyes then found the dark brown of the brunette standing wide-eyed in the door way, her gun still aimed dangerously at Nat. "Put that toy down, bird, it's just me."

"Natalia Romanova!" Clint said, bursting through the door as he rushed to Nat. He crushed her into a hug, she barely on her feet, him wrapping his arms around her neck. Soon, Steve and the others followed hesitantly, their eyes searching the room for any signs of the enemy.

"Why did you come all this way, alone, to kill _one_ guy?" Sam asked, leaning in the door frame.

Nat's lips pursed into a sly smirk. "I didn't kill just one guy, Sammy," she answered, her voice roach and seductive, as if she was trying to be sexy. "And I'm not alone."

Steve's mouth opened to ask something, his brows furrowing into a deep frown. Yet before he could say anything, there was the sound of metal on pavement and Addie's eyes looked up sharply.

There was a man dressed in a red and gold metal body suit, holding a white powdered doughnut in his right hand, white sugar coating his lips. "Well, this is awkward," he mumbled.

 **Yup, that was Tony Stark.**


	13. Chapter 12

**I went partying the other night and made out with a boy. Summer is going to be lit asf. Anyway, I think this chapter surfaces more questions than answers but what's a good story without a bit of confusion?**

 **Thank you to Hannah, BeccaSco, and NoVacancyMind for the lovely reviews.**

 **17Daybreak: I'm going for that slow burn that BURNS. I heed your advice and welcome it with every new review you post. I intend to yes, draw out the suspense and make Bucky squirm in all this sexual tension, although I don't plan to make their sexuality the center of the plot for now. I want them to develop more together before jumping right under the covers. Addison is not like that even though she has a sense of humor. Thank you for the non-stop lovely and constructive reviews. Please enjoy.**

Chapter Twelve: Kryptonite

"Well, this is awkward."

For the first time in what felt like forever, Bucky took a step back behind Steve. His eyes found the man standing in the glow of the oil lamps, the fire from the flames bouncing off the sleek red and gold metal body suit. Bucky's fingers tightened around the weapon in his hands, his knuckles turning white.

Addie watched from the door frame, her left hand still clutching the gun. The whole room seemed to tense, as if a rubber band had been wrapped around everyone's throats.

"What are you doing here?" Sam asked as he stepped forward, closer to Cap.

The man who Addie could only assume was Tony shrugged nonchalantly. "You know," he mumbled, his mouth half full with doughnut, "just _hangin_ '." He took another snobby bite of his snack, white sugar crusting the sides of his mouth. From under the orange glow of the oil lamps, he looked younger than Addie thought he would be. The great Iron Man, with a dark, detailed beard and deliciously dark eyes.

"Tony," Steve said gravely, his voice resounding in the small area. Addie thought he was going to say something reproachful by the somber tone of his voice and the indisputable look in his eyes, yet instead all he said was, "it's good to see you."

Tony's eyes stayed glued to Steve for a second longer than they should have, a look of enmity crossing his features. He slowly moved his jaw from right to left, slacking it a little before taking another bite, his eyes moving quickly away from Cap. "Wish I could say the same," he said in a careless tone. His eyes briefly brushed over Bucky, and Addison quickly remembered what Clint had told her all those weeks ago.

 _Bucky killed Tony's parents._

Stark moved closer to her as he pretended to be examining the room, his mouth still shiny with sugar. "I see you've been busy," he said loudly, turning his head dramatically to her, his eyes changing from acrimony to comedy, his head cocked slightly to the side. Silence filled the room as everyone watched between Tony and Addie, before the former plucked the last remaining piece of his doughnut into his mouth and laughed. "I mean, I can't blame you!" he chuckled, wiping his hands together. "I've been busy as well. Peter is doing super great in school. He's got a new suit and I'm pretty sure he's got a girlfriend now." He gave the girl a once over, analyzing her suit, her boots, her weapons. He gave an apathetic smile, as if he was the president of Prada and she was an ugly duckling auditioning to be a model.

"Well that's great for him, but frankly, I don't care." The tone of her voice surprised even herself as she tried to suppress the blush from creeping onto her cheeks. She saw everyone shuffle slightly closer, as if she had set off a bomb.

Tony looked at her, jaw slacked, eyes blank. Then suddenly, he laughed, all pearly whites and everything. "Well well well," he chanted, "we've got ourselves a comedian over here."

There was an edgy silence following his laugh, and Addie risked a look in Bucky's direction. What she saw could have made her heart sunk if she hadn't groomed herself to disregard her feelings. He was looking at the ground, his brows pulled into a deep frown, his lips in a tight line. He was still firmly clutching his automatic weapon, while everyone had lowered their arsenal. He was standing closer to Steve than before, a look of culpability and anger dominating his expression. He was submitted completely, his head bowed to Tony, his eyes averted from everyone's. It would have broken Addie's heart.

"You weren't supposed to be here," Steve said, which broke Tony and the brunette's staring contest. Tony swiveled on his heel, turning to face Cap with a brilliant smile. Stark was particularly careful to avoid Bucky's eyes.

"I wasn't, you're right," he answered.

"Then what the hell?" Sam interjected, his voice a mixture of annoyance and confusion. Tony leaned on one hip, which made the light from his suit reflect. He crossed his arms over his chest and huffed dramatically.

"Well, it's not like I walked in on an orgy or anything," he grumbled sarcastically, which made everyone frown, except for Scott, who was smirking like a dork. "Or... did I?" His voice squeaked ever the slightest and then he burst into laughter.

Natasha got to her feet drastically, the look on her face letting everyone know she had had enough with Tony's sarcasm. "We had a lead in Mexico three weeks ago," she started, her voice serious. "A doctor who had the sketchiest track record we've ever seen. Long story short, she died whispering "hail Hydra" and all we had were her documents."

"And here I was, thinkin' HYDRA was in the past," Sam grumbled, sitting down on a low stool beside Nat. She gave him a sympathetic smile then continued.

"All her documents were in Russian, which was no big deal for me," she said. "Most of it was noise. Until I came across one of her astronomic files. She had been studying Jane Foster's findings about the cosmic universe and converging lines between our world and the others."

"She was looking at how Jane figured out the places where universe time lines converge," Steve announced. "She was studying on how to find her own."

"Exactly," Nat answered. "She found the place in New Mexico where Thor ended up in after his banishment. She also found the other convergence place in London where Jane found the Aether."

"That means, she's the one that helped Loki travel back here," Tony interjected in a somewhat happy tone. "Which means he's probably been back for a _while_. Anyway, aside from all the astrological jargon we found, there were coordinates to this place, which we coordinately passed onto you, Rogers."

"Then you told me I could handle this," Rogers answered firmly. His blue eyes were sharply trained on Stark, as if the latter would magically vanish.

"Yes," Tony sighed, "but that was before we went to Florida and saw how drastically you failed."

Addie didn't want to, but she let her head fall ever the slightest, which made Tony look at her from the side with a slight frown on his face. She felt the bile rise in her throat, her hands balling into fists, her nails digging into the flesh of her palms.

"Come on man, why you gotta be so rude," Sam whined, shaking his head.

"There was nothing there," Steve said abruptly, his eyes going from Addie to Tony very rapidly.

"Actually, there was," Tony answered. "Besides the soup of dead bodies you left us, that we had to get rid of, may I _add_ , there was something waiting inside one of the main buildings, which you never got the chance to reach."

He turned suddenly to Addie, where she was standing with her head still slightly lowered, and pointed a daunting finger her way. "Addison O'Connor," he said with a wide smile. "That's you, right?"

She lifted her dark orbs to meet his and gave him a flick of her chin. "You see another Addison in this place?" She bared her teeth like a wolf and the tone of her voice left everyone on edge, as if the rubber band was being stretched out too much.

Tony rose his brow at her, but didn't give her any snarky remarks. Instead, he reached out towards Nat with his bare palm facing upwards, his eyes never breaking contact with hers. A dove colored paper appeared from inside Nat's suit and was then passed onto Stark's awaiting hand. Addie only broke eye contact to flick her orbs to the paper, which looked dirty on the edges and heavy as it landed in Iron Man's hand. Her jaw clenched as she watched everyone lean in slightly, curiosity winning the best of them.

"I believe this is for you, then," Tony whispered, his eyes big as saucers as he handed the paper cordially to her. She hesitated, her eyes flickering for a brief second to where Steve and Bucky were standing, the former holding his hand out to stop Bucky from doing anything stupid. Addie then took a small step forward and reached out, her fingers closing around the soft texture of the paper, which turned out to be a letter. She tugged it out of Stark's hands and into her own, finding the weight of the envelope greater than she had thought. There was something inside.

She carefully opened the envelope, peering inside suspiciously. "Read the letter first," Tony said, his tone bare of any humor for once. She looked up at him with a raised eyebrow.

"You read it," she announced. She wasn't asking a question as she passed her index along the ripped edges of the envelope.

"I turned into my mom, sorry," he grumbled with a lopsided smirk. Addie did not miss Bucky's slight flinch.

She turned the envelope over under everyone's watchful gaze, her heart starting to throb in her throat. When she spotted her name written in beautiful cursive letters, her face became red with fear and confusion. The letters had been written in dark black ink, the A of her name broadly whisked onto the white of the paper. The lovely curves of the letters were unrecognizable to her as she flipped the envelop again and dug her hand into it. She pulled out the small sheet of paper, which felt thicker than the envelope as she pinched it between her index and thumb.

Again, the charming handwriting was sprawled onto the parchment, it seemed.

"Read it," Tony ordered, and this time, his tone was impatient.

She gulped loudly, her eyes finding everyone in the room, whom all stared back with eagerness. She brought her orbs back to the unfamiliar handwriting, her left hand still clutching the heavy envelope. Clearing her throat, she opened her mouth and started to read. "Dearest Addison," she said, her voice low and raspy, "I hope this letter finds you well. I believe this belongs to you. I'm sorry if it stirs any unwanted memories, if there are any left, that is." Frowning deeply, she looked up at Tony, then Steve, and finally Bucky. They were all staring at her blankly, before Rogers gestured to the envelope with his chin.

She glanced at it swiftly before reaching back in. This time, her fingers closed around something thin and metallic, the sound of it scraping against the papery insides of the envelope as she carefully drew it out. Everyone looked at her as if she had taken the pin off a grenade. The tension in the room grew exponentially, the rubber band stretching as far as it could go, everyone's breaths held.

When she pulled out a pendant, she was sure she heard them all let out their breaths.

The necklace was of a cheap black metal, the rings of the necklace rusty around the clip. At the end of the pendant was a dove made with a material she could only imagine was metal. Looking more closely, she could see the black dove had been melted and carved back together meticulously. Whoever had done this work had done it before. It was not a perfect job, as she could see where the metals were melted together, yet the small dark bird was nonetheless beautiful.

But there were no memories to accompany this pendant. She searched far and wide in her mind; parents, grandparents, friends, boyfriend, that one girlfriend. Nothing. "This isn't mine," she said then, lifting her eyes to meet Tony's watchful gaze. "I've never seen this."

She held it up for everybody to see, letting them ingest if they'd ever seen the pendant in their lives, yet none gave any signs of recognition.

"Is the letter signed?" Steve asked, his voice very low. Addie flipped the parchment over then shook her head.

"Who is it from?" Sam asked, his question directed solely at Tony, who frowned and shook his head.

"How should I know?" he said lowly.

Addie gripped the dark metal dove in her hand again, staring at it until her eyes burned. "Why would HYDRA want to give me a metal bird?" she asked.

Nat walked into the little circle the group had managed to form into. She had her arms crossed over her chest, her lips pursed in a fashion that led Addie to believe the red head was going to say something important. "When Steve and I read your file," she started in her raspy tone, "we looked into it and we found some things we found unimportant to tell you."

"We weren't sure you'd want to know them anyway," Steve interjected loudly.

"You were taken by HYDRA, which you probably concluded," Nat continued. Addie felt her mouth getting thick with worry. "But you stayed there longer than you might think. We found test papers dating back to three months before you woke up back in your house. We have reasons to believe they kept you longer than they should have. And now maybe this pendant is a test, to see how much you remember, if not at all. A test to see if wiping your memory really worked."

Addie's mouth opened, but nothing left her lips.

"Someone is testing you, and we know who it is," Tony continued, the metal heels of his suit clanging lowly on the pavement floor.

"Loki," Steve murmured.

Addison remembered then suddenly the conversation she had had with Steve in her apartment weeks ago, right before she agreed to go with him.

 _"The people that did this to me, they aren't good people."_

 _"We know."_

 _"Do you think they'll come back for me?"_

 _"I think they already have."_

She shook her head in confusion, her face pulled into a tight frown. There was a sour feeling in her chest, ready to explode. The rubber band was snapping. "But I have no idea what this is!" she exclaimed, holding up the pendant which she was clutching so hard, the skin was about to break.

Steve took a step forward and reached for her hand. "We'll figure it out, Addie," he said calmly, careful to avoid her nickname. "We'll figure it out."

She frowned deeply. For all the things that Steve was, she had never imagined him a liar. She had never imagined him to be able to keep crucial information about her. She wanted to yell at him, to cast all the electricity in her, to burn him right then and there.

But she held the pendant in her hand, which was also one piece of the puzzle; one step closer to finding out what they had done to her. And what they wanted with her now.

"Addie," Nat said, approaching the girl carefully, "if Loki is coming for you, trust me when I say we all have your back. We fight together. We will protect you."

"We protect each other," Steve mumbled, his brows upturned, his eyes cast with a murky shadow of grief.

"Well, then," Tony said with a clasp of his hands, "let's figure out what the hell Loki wants with Addison."

"One thing we know for sure about Loki," Steve said as he walked slowly in front of Tony, "is that he's not just after one thing. Yes, we need to find out what he wants with bir-Addison, but we also need to keep an eye out for anything else. He always had multiple plans going."

Tony rolled his eyes at Steve's excessively dramatic tone. "And that would be much easier if we could just call Thor, but he refuses to get a cellphone."

Addie put the pendant in her pocket, clenching her jaw as she peered over Steve's shoulder, right into Tony's eyes. "So are we going to put our sissy fits aside and join in, arms and minds, to find out exactly what the _fuck_ is going on?"

The mission hadn't really hit home until she read the letter; the taunting letter. It hadn't become real until Loki had teased her like that, almost dangling in front of her face the fact that he had stolen crucial memories from her. He had taken things from her, and now he knew things she didn't even know herself. He had the upper hand, and now, she was going to be more invested in figuring out why he was on Earth.

* * *

Everything was starting to piece back together, well, for most part. She understood why she had lost so much of her memory. She understood now what may have happened to her. But she still knew so little. Was she tortured? Beaten? Electrified? Mentally abused? She didn't even want to think about what the dove pendant meant. She didn't want to think that it may have been used against her; as her trigger. She didn't want to know what memories were linked to that beautifully crooked mass of metal.

As she held it in the palm of her hand, Addie couldn't stop thinking about the letter.

 _I'm sorry if it stirs any unwanted memories, if there are any left, that is._

Her mind swirled with black anger. Loki had taken memories from, ripped months of her life away, and was now taunting her like a dog.

She knocked her head against the metal wall of the jet, where she was seated with her knees resting against her chest, far off in the plane that no one could hear her. She ground her teeth together, her fingers closing painfully around the metal dove. Her mind was racing and yet, she wanted to cast out all those awful thoughts. The darkness swirling like an angry sheet of hate made the head ache burst like an explosion. Her skull pounded in pain. White hot flashes danced behind her eyes.

"Damn it." Her voice wavered as she felt hot thick tears behind her closed lids. Fireworks danced behind her lids; a myriad of pain and anger. "Fuck!" She threw the pendant with all her might, watching it sore in the air before loudly hitting the metal wall opposite her. It clanged to the floor, the cheap chain rattling on the ground, the black dove catching the sickly white lights overhead.

She brought the butt of her hands to her eyes, pressing hard, as if she could push the tears back in. All of this was done to her without her consent. Something or someone had taken her from the perfect, yet imperfect, life she had been living. They'd thrown her into a snake pit and turned her into something she didn't even recognize. She had to fight to stay in control, to stay Addie. If she let all the power out, it would be like opening the gates to hell. She knew, and had known, that the ability that made her so in-tuned with the world was her kryptonite. It would kill her someday, or it would kill someone she loved.

By then the plane was silent, the dark swallowing up all the light in the aircraft. There was a distant sound of humming, the motors of the jet whining softly in the background, yet her area of the plane remained as quiet as a graveyard. She didn't know how she ended up where she was or when she'd decided she'd stray from the others. Her feet had carried her mindlessly through the aircraft until darkness engulfed her and she'd crumbled to the ground. She had taken the dove out from her pocket, holding the damned twisted metal between her fingers, pinching it harshly.

Now she sat cross-legged on the cold metal ground, her eyes prickly with tears, yet none fell over her pale cheeks. The darkness hid the intruder that came waddling in after the pendant had been violently thrown on the opposite wall. Addison heard the rattle of the chain as someone picked the pendant off the ground and into their hands. Soft feet shuffled the ground, the sound of breathing coming closer and closer. She was numb, her eyes wide open, yet not seeing as a warm body slid in beside her, a long leg splayed beside her own. Her breathing was ragged in the darkness, her eyes shiny with unshed tears.

With her throat dry, she uncurled her legs and let them splay beyond her body. A warm breath washed the side of her face, loose strands of hair tickling her bare neck.

"They took Steve away from me," he said, his voice rough in the gentle darkness. "They took his memory of him. They took everything else that came with my life, but the only thing that matters to me is that they took my souvenirs of Steve. I was walking blindly in the world without him. He was my anchor before HYDRA. He saved me from the enemy, but he was always there to remind me not to lose myself."

Bucky stirred beside her, his shoulder touching hers ever the slightest. His thigh was pressed firmly against hers, his warmth seeping into her. The darkness seemed to provide a cover. She could not see his face, the obscurity being his armor. He could speak freely when his blazing blue eyes were invisible in darkness, his now vulnerable features hidden to the brunette. He had taken advantage of the dark, using it to express his most sensitive thoughts. He was nothing in the darkness; just a voice and a breath. The heat emanating from his body was the only evidence of him ever being beside her.

"I'm still trying to figure a lot of things out," he continued, his voice as soft as summer wind. "But I know that when I saw Steve on that cossway all that time ago that there had been a vital part of me that had been ripped out. It felt as if I had been living as a ghost all those years, and that I was finally given a taste of freedom, yet even then, my freedom was denied." His tone was chaotic and yet gentle. His words were more dangerous than his voice, the syllables of his words sticking to her skin like glue.

He licked his lips before continuing. "There are still things that I feel or do sometimes that I don't understand." She felt his index trace the inside of her wrist, the calloused pads of his fingers rough against her soft flesh. "But I've been down that road, little bird. I know how the song goes. I know what HYDRA is capable of. I know how they work."

His index reached the inside of her palm, where he pressed his hand until her fingers splayed out. She felt the cold metal of the pendant burn her skin as he gave her back that awful object. His hand was warm, comforting, yet the metal dove was piercing and awkward, the jagged edges of the wings scraping against her skin. "I recognize it," he said, so low she barely heard him, his voice soft and quiet.

Her heart tumbled in her chest, the taste of copper in her mouth. "What?" she asked, her voice roach and awkward in the darkness. His hand left hers, the cold of the metal replacing the warmth that had been his palm.

"I've seen the pendant before," he repeated, his voice turning more and more sour. The cover of the darkness had lost its magic. "It's like déja-vu."

She curled her fingers like claws around the ragged edges of the bird, her skin prickling with pain. She didn't say anything, instead letting the darkness cover the fact that she was beginning to understand HYDRA might have taken much more than she had thought.


	14. Chapter 13

**First of all, I would like to say that in this chapter, there are executive names and titles that are absolutely fictional. If you recognize any names it is purely coincidence. I am also not a professional in politics and so if you see anything (titles and jobs) that do not coincide with real-world title and jobs, you can feel free to mention it. However, I did my best to make it as realistic as possible as I am not a politic junkie. I do know Arnold Schwarzenegger was governor of California lmao.**

 **Second, more details about the mission will be given next chapter as they actually embark on the actual mission. This chapter was more concentrated on Bucky/Addie (Baddie?) action.**

 **Please enjoy.**

 **BeccaSco: yaaaaaas girl love you**

 **17 Daybreak: this is for your suggestion of "a little sprinkle here and there" ;) Thank you for your continued praise of my writing. Every time I read your reviews, I gush and smile and get all giddy over them!**

Chapter Thirteen: Hedonism

Steve was quick in informing everyone of their newest mission: infiltration.

After the newest information they had uncovered in the tunnels of California, the group was hungry in their pursuit for fresh clues. They were desperately trying to piece together the puzzle, as if Loki was leaving clues behind like a trail and they would be sniffing behind him like dogs. Except the trail was murky and vague, the clues barely illuminating the whole picture.

And so the group buried their noses in media, news, books, and computers. Nat had come back to help them uncover as much dirt as they could. She had dug up some irrelevant nonsense from the doctor in Mexico, yet when she uncovered a very reputed name in the Canadian government, the group was relentless in trying to find more. The name was Jason Brownback, Ontario bound, the assistant to the governor general of Canada, a man with money to engorge his pockets and a reputation to go along with it. As Nat mentioned, Brownback was known for his luxurious soirees filled with expensive champagne and high-radar company.

"He throws parties that could rival the ones from the Great Gatsby," Nat added, her tone wavering between pity and mockery. She was wearing a delicate white blouse with a pair of tight black jeans. She looked phenomenal in the light of the dining room.

"And what does he have to do with Loki?" Addison asked, leaning back in her chair, crossing her arms over her chest.

Steve shuffled some papers between his hands and then tossed them sloppily along the table for everyone to see. "Before SHIELD went down," he started, "Brownback was seen at multiple times trying to coerce himself into the life of professor Erik Selvig, the man who helped Jane Foster find the universe converge lines."

"When that went somewhat sideways because Selvig was admitted to the nut house, Brownback found himself weaseling through another wormhole," Nat continued. "He went after the doctor in Mexico, Dr. Andrade."

"Which makes him suspicious because...?" Wanda asked, a slender eyebrow quirked.

"Because the only way this Dr. Andrade could ever afford to bring Loki from another universe using pretty expensive equipment would be with appropriate funding," Steve answered, his voice patronizing. "His name is only mentioned in an offshore account she shares with her dead ex-husband, which made us wonder why some random executive from Canada would be sending cash to a less reputed doctor in Mexico."

"So we did some digging; well I did," Nat added, a sultry smile on her lips. "SHIELD had some files on him as a suspected HYDRA member, but when HYDRA went wild and decided to literally destroy SHIELD, those files vanished."

"So this Brownback guy could be HYDRA?" Addison asked.

Nat bit her lips, almost timidly. "This could be a big breakthrough if we catch this guy," she answered. "If we can get this guy to talk, we will be on the straightest path to victory. But we don't even know if he's HYDRA for sure. We need to confirm it. Once we do, we'll get him."

"So here's the next thing we're going to do," Steve said quickly, standing and leaning over the glass table. Addie could feel the lump rising in her throat as Steve's clear blue eyes found hers. "We're going to infiltrate his house."

"Down," Sam grumbled from all the way across the table, a half smile on his face.

"The thing is," Steve continued, a giggle escaping his lips, "is that only one of us can actually go in the house while the rest of us can't."

"Why not?" Addie asked, feeling where this was going. Steve licked his lips, his brows coming together in a slight frown.

"All of us, besides you," he started tentatively, "are wanted by Secretary Ross. That makes us fugitives."

"I remember when we crossed the border from Quebec," she mumbled, her cheeks tainted with a tinge of red. "We couldn't pass customs. They'd recognize you."

"So if I show up at a Canadian executive's house, I will not pass security, guaranteed," he continued, his voice solemn. "But you will. There are no alerts on you. I made sure of that with Tony. You'll be our man on the inside. You'll be the one to put everything into place."

"How so?" she asked, feeling every eye on her. Steve pushed a brown file towards her and as she flipped it open, she caught a candid picture of her stapled to a thick layer of paper. "Don't tell me you dug up my diary."

"You're new name is Jessica Bentley, the newest wife of assistant-general of Kansas Mr. Howard Bentley," Steve declared, as if reading off a list of buy-and-sell. "You're a twenty-three year old University graduate in biology. Everything on how you met Howard and everything that follows is in the file."

"Holy sh-" she started, but before she could express her nervousness, Nat cut in.

"We'll be here right with you, through coms," she said hurriedly, her big blue eyes round and warm. "You'll pass through security in a breeze. But inside, you'll be asked a lot of questions. You need to be sharp. You need to study this." Nat held up the file for all to see.

Addie's heart thumped loudly in her ears. "What will I need to do?"

"This Brownback guy likes young meat," Nat went on, a wicked smile on her lips. "He's going to devour you like a cupcake. But that will make you less suspicious. We need you to get him drunk, and I'm talking, hands-down-your-panties drunk. Maybe not, but whatever. I want you to get him to talk to you, anything that can confirm our suspicions."

"So you want me to sit there and be pretty?" Addie squeaked, her mouth twisting in disgust.

"Yes," Nat answered bluntly. "Then you'll snoop."

"Well that just delicious," Sam grunted. "While she's doin' all the dirty work, all of us are going to be sitting on our asses eating ramen noodles?"

"Not exactly," Nat answered. She produced a small chip from her back pocket. "We need you to access the security system."

Addison rolled her eyes apathetically. "As if they'd let me saunter in and mess up their security system."

"If you're wearing some lingery, they might actually let you in," Scott mused with a smirk and wink. Addie laughed, which took the heaviness away.

"It doesn't hurt to try and persuade him to show you the wonders of his home, and his home is never ending," Nat chimed in. "We will guide you, promise. We will be there with you from start to finish. But the thing is, if you don't enter this chip into the security system, we won't be able to come in and help you find more evidence."

Addie's hands were sweaty as she weighed her options. She was going to infiltrate someone's home at a very extravagant executive and political party where people she didn't know would be waiting to tear her apart. She would be dropped into a shark tank, yet this mission could end up with more evidence as to what Loki ultimately wanted.

"And what about Mr. Bentley?" she asked curiously. "If I'm his wife, shouldn't I be accompanying him?"

Nat exchanged a comical look with Steve, and both had wicked smirks on their lips. "We will make sure that Mr. Bentley won't be attending the soiree and you will be there to represent him," Nat answered.

* * *

He sat alone in the murky darkness, away from the assaulting rays of sunshine. His fingers worked nimbly, his hands quicker than lightning. Jade blue eyes focused harshly on the task at hand, absorbed as if in a trance, the pupils contracting with every fine movement of his fingers. Locks of unruly dark hair fell over a shadow of a beard that had grown on his jaw. Pink plump lips were puckered in concentration while a sharp incisor was dug deeply into the inside of his cheek.

The day had started out of the ordinary for Bucky. He had woken up with his head heavy with thoughts, jam-packed with the swirling darkness of his insecurities and doubts. It was as if someone had stuffed his head full of bricks while he had slept; if we could even say he slept at all. The night had been a frenzy of tossing and turning, flipping his pillows and kicking the sheets. His body had sweat so much he feared he would ruin the mattress, and his pillow was so damaged it would never hold the firm and plump form it once had. He could not get the thought of their next mission out of his head. He could not keep the dove pendant from entering his dreams even if he tried.

To say the least, the necklace had haunted him since Addie had fetched it out of the envelop. The sense of deja-vu ceased him by the guts with a freezing hand and twisted until everything inside of him was a crystallized ice cube. He could feel his soft, velvety insides slowly hardening, his air ways constricting the more he stared at the wretched piece of metal. Like everything else in his life, he knew he'd seen that pendant before, but he couldn't put his finger on where. He had it on the tip of his tongue, the secret ready to spill, the memories just within reach, yet whenever he groped for more, the memories would slither away and it would just be him and that dove and the deja-vu.

After their adventure in the tunnels, he'd been walking around as if on eggshells. He was scared that if he turned a corner, or if he walked too fast, the memories would come rushing back and hit him hard. He was so scared to look at her, by fear that her already familiar features would trigger more awful memories within him. Yet every time he'd looked upon those darling planes of her cheeks or the swirl of darkness in her orbs, he'd just feel the familiar sense that he'd seen her before. It might have been at a coffee shop. It might have been in a HYDRA base. And sometimes she would do things or say things that made him stop, and his whole world collided for a split second, his mind screaming _I've heard this!_ He would stare at her, his mind searching, calculating, yet he would come back up blank.

When she would walk by him and her shoulder would barely graze his, the scent of fresh vanilla assaulting his senses, he would be brought back into a place he didn't know. When she'd quirk the left side of her mouth and snort, saying something sarcastic or cunning, he felt the subtle tingle of familiarity ringing its bells in the back of his head.

And now the pendant, brought forth into daylight just as he was about to abandon his quest for more answers. The pendant, which made his throat thicken and hands sweat, was just another sign, telling him there was something obviously familiar about her. It awoke something crazy in him, something fierce he didn't know he had. Possessiveness. It gripped him with two hands, sinking teeth and nails, biting at his throat and tearing his heart apart.

Bucky didn't know how to feel, or what to feel, which made him as confused as the first day he saw Addie.

He'd woken up today with new thoughts filling his mind. After the knowledge of their new extraction to Ontario had surfaced last night, Bucky had had a restless sleep. The back of his lids burned with the idea of Addie getting into trouble, of her being stuck in that room full of executives and been pinned to the corner. He couldn't stand laying in bed staring at the ceiling anymore, so he'd hopped out, slipped on some dark low jeans and a long sleeved black shirt, and headed for the gun shed to clean his weapons. No one was up to ask him any questions and he stayed in the cover of the shed, seeing the rising sun through the cracks in the wall.

He'd stayed there, hoping to be alone until he could calm the raging storm in his mind. Yet when the creaking wooden door of the shed squealed open on rusted hinges, he was brutally aware of the scent of vanilla reaching his senses. There she stood, half of her body in the darkness of the shed, the other half illuminated by the bright morning sun. Her hair shone in the light, her skin seeming to glow. Her dark eyes stared at him fiercely, yet there was a timidness behind her irises. She let those daring dark orbs of hers slowly trace the outline of his body, taking in consideration the somewhat tight aspect of his shirt and the gun in his hand. Then she brought her eyes back to him, the left corner of her mouth quirking in an awkward smile. "Hey." Her voice was sultry, yet roach, as if she was speaking for the first time that morning.

He noticed her black yoga pants, the ones she wore when she trained. The air was still somewhat chilling, so she adorned a thin grey sweater with the hood half over her head. She stood against the rising sun for a second, her whole being in the light, then she closed the door and they were in darkness.

"Hey." His voice echoed in the obscurity, yet he could still make out the outline of her body against the backdrop of sunshine that pierced through the cracks in the wall.

He sat up straighter where he was perched on a low bench, his elbows on his knees, his hands holding a weapon. She cleared her throat, making her way deeper into the shed.

"I thought I'd find you here," she said. In the darkness, he allowed himself to smirk.

"Was it _that_ boring in training?" he asked, his voice barely tinted with humor. He watched her slowly roam around the shed, slipping between crates and boxes, sometimes hidden from him.

"There was no one in the gym," she announced, her voice careless as she made her way, inch by inch, closer to him. His hands flexed around the weapon as he leaned back until his back rested against the wall.

"So you came here to bother me?"

"I came here to see what you were up to," she answered bluntly, her head snapping back at him. For all his good senses in the dark, he could not make out her eyes perfectly, but he could see those pink lips of hers quirked in a smirk.

He sighed, dropping his eyes back to his work, his fingers finding the steady rhythm again. "Are you here because you want to talk about our next extraction?" he asked tentatively. A heavy silence followed, her feet stopped dead a couple inches from his own. If he looked up, he would be face-to-face with her bellybutton.

"I don't want to screw it up," she muttered. He kept his head down, his fingers still working on his gun.

"Then don't," he grumbled back.

"That's so easy for you to say," she mumbled. "You did this for seventy years without blinking an eye. You tore down countries and families alike. You're a fucking pro. Don't just sit there and tell me not to screw it up when it's my first infiltration mission."

His jaw clenched at her words, a sour feeling building up in his chest.

"You're a bitch," he grumbled, barely keeping it together.

"Well, at least I'm not a machine," she growled back. He flew to his feet in a matter of milliseconds. He towered over her, his eyes so close to hers he could finally see the swirl of chocolate coating her irises. The anger building up in his chest was enough to set a whole house on fire, and the more he looked at her and replayed her last words, the more he wanted to hurt something. The gun fell loudly to the floor as he clenched his hands, his nails digging quite painfully into his skin.

"Don't fucking say that," he growled, the sound coming from deep within his chest. "You come in here to be comforted because you're insecure and you want me to lie to you and tell you all the beautiful deceits you _so_ want to hear. And when I tell you the cold God damn truth, you flip your guilt switch on me." Before he knew it, his right hand held her jaw painfully, squeezing enough to make her flesh turn white. He walked forward, making her stumble backwards. "You're a whiny little bitch with no offer of a solution and you dare come to me for advice and when I don't tell you what you want to hear, you try to tear me open." Her eyes grew bigger the more he forced her backwards, yet she wasn't putting up a fight. "You're the same as me Addie. HYDRA made me and HYDRA made you."

She almost spat in his face. "I'm nothing like you."

"Why?" he barked back, tilting his head sideways. "Because you've never killed anyone innocent? Because you think since you only have 3 months of memory missing they didn't have the time to turn you into a monster? You're attacking my insecurities so lets skin you raw and attack yours, shall we?"

She tried to push him away, but it was as if she was pushing against a brick wall. When her back made firm and painful contract with the wooden wall, she threw all her might against him. Her knee came up and bashed against his stomach, which bent him over slightly enough so she could wrench her aching jaw from his grasp. He was about to grab her throat when she sent a quick and efficient snap of her hand against the side of his neck. It left enough space between them for her to wriggle through and saunter her way deeper into the dark shed.

"You're a sad abandoned little girl with disgusting mommy issues who needs comforting at every step in her life," he gritted between clenched teeth, twisting around to find her ready for combat.

Bucky wanted to teach her a lesson. He was tired of the pained-dog act she was playing since the beginning. As much as he wanted to tear her clothes off and give her a taste of Bucky Barnes, he hated how she never admitted to needing help. She never admitted to being less than perfect. Her obsession with being the golden girl was ticking him off, now more than ever, as she had attacked him in his most vulnerable and sensitive aspects of his life. As if there was nothing wrong with her.

"You're broken and shattered," he continued, evading her punches, throwing her here and there the more they scuffled in the shed. "Stop lying to yourself. You're HYDRA bait." He landed a particularly painful punch to her ribs, which sent her tumbling back, bent over trying to catch her breath. He knew the serum in her veins wouldn't let him break her bones.

"I am not HYDRA," she said breathless. As much as she had trained, she could never beat the Winter Soldier.

She came at him again, throwing knees and elbows until he flipped her over his shoulder. He crushed his chest against her back, his metal arm wrapping around her neck, his flesh hand holding her head steady against his shoulder. "We are _all_ HYDRA!" he shouted forcefully, as she kicked and squirmed against him. "For so many years, we have been doing exactly what they've wanted! This fight never ends, birdie! It never ends and you're apart of it!"

She sighed, something between a gurgle and a sob wrenching from her mouth. She went limp in his arms, her legs almost hanging underneath her. "Oh, fuck you," she sighed, again her voice wavering between a wretched sob and trying to remain stable. "I don't want to be apart of it anymore. I don't care."

Of all the things Bucky was scared of, which was a few things, he was scared of losing her.

He spun her around to face him, his hands tight on her biceps, and he almost rammed her into the wall. The harsh contact made the breath _whoosh_ out of her lungs, her head knocking briefly against the wooden wall. From this close, Bucky could see the glistening of her eyes.

Her little hands wrapped around his neck, her nails softly biting the skin, and before he knew it, she was bringing him forward until her lips briefly brushed his. Fire ran through his body, igniting his whole being. Shivers sliced down his spine, his hands clenching even harder on her biceps. She whispered a faint "I hate you" against his lips before firmly pressing her mouth against his.

He found the familiarity of her mouth inviting, the warmth of her tongue slipping against his comforting. The familiarity of her firm body pressed flush against his was as if he was reliving the night with the wine all over again. He could feel every curve of her body against his own, which sent a rush of pleasure to pool in his stomach. The rough feeling of her hands knotting in his hair was making him hungry, the slight tugs she was doing almost pushing him off the edge.

He let his hands lazily slide down her arms until they reached her waist, where he gripped her firmly and pushed her again against the wall. Her greedy mouth was hungrily moving along with his, while his head was a fury of excitement and madness. He did not want to waste any time, feeling as if this moment was stolen, as if they would never as much as lay eyes on each other again.

He gently swept his fingertips along her waist until they were under the hem of her sweater, where he could feel sharp goosebumps on her flesh. Her mouth was warm and inviting, the plumpness of her lips making the hunger in him grow. He slid his fingers higher into her shirt, his goal obvious as he skimmed the soft ridges of her ribs. She let out delicious squeaks as he continued to softly stroke her skin, the sound being swallowed by his own mouth. She was moving licentiously against his body, slowly and timidly at first, but the more he grew closer to his goal, the harder she was rocking herself against him. His own pleasure grew the more she pressed herself so sensually, moving her hips slightly against his own.

When he found the path to his goal was blocked by a sports bra, he couldn't hold the groan of discontent. His fingertips skimmed along the hem of her bra, yet it was on so tight he could barely pass a finger through.

Quickly and suddenly, he slid his warm hands from her goosebumped-abdomen and brought them under her rear, where he lifted her up as easily as if she were a feather. Guiding her legs around his waist, he kept her in place with his hands that were placed rather closely to her butt. He rapidly yanked her from the wall, getting onto his knees to gently lay her down onto the cold ground. She didn't seem to mind the quite submissive position as she continued to nibble at his mouth, little sounds of pleasure emanating from her lips. He then pressed himself fully against her, supporting himself on his elbows beside her head, their hips harshly pressed together. He could feel her heat through his jeans, making a hot wave of pleasure pool in his stomach. He found himself involuntarily grinding against her hips, the movement creating friction to spark between the two, his growing pleasure becoming apparent through his pants. He could tell she could feel him as well for she was rotating her hips slightly, creating her own friction as he tried not to lose all control the more she moved so lustfully against him. He didn't know he could get so much pleasure even with all his clothes on.

He worked his fingers under her sweater again, finding her skin slightly humid with sweat. He skimmed along the now familiar bumps of her ribs, feeling her thumping heart beating against her chest. He was gripped with a hunger unknown to him before as she ground her hips, rubbing herself quite forcefully against him, silently moaning into his mouth. All the muscles in his body seemed to tense, his mind swirling with dirty, dirty thoughts once imaginable to him.

"You didn't come here to get comforted, did you?" he asked against her mouth, his voice transformed into something lustful and husky, as if he was drunk. Her hands dug quite painfully into his hair, tugging on the roots, which sent another savage wave of heat to pool in his stomach.

"Shut up," she breathed, and plunged her mouth onto his again.

He tried once again to dig his fingers under her bra, yet it was on too tight. It ticked him off, and he broke away from their passionate kissing to roughly pull her sweater over the curve of her breast and hungrily rip her bra straight down the middle. He barely had time to admire the creamy swell of her breasts as they spilled free from the awful clothing as Addie was pulling him down again, her mouth and teeth finding his. Kissing her quite roughly, teeth and all, he couldn't keep his hands from finding her soft breasts, squeezing and molding them to his content. She curved her back into him, swelling her chest and giving him more access. With his pleasure amplifying beyond imagination, he kept massaging her chest, lazily sweeping his thumb on the hardened nipple, earning himself little squeaks and moans from the girl under him.

She pushed him quickly, using her hands against his shoulders to roughly spin him around onto his back. Climbing over him, she barely broke the kiss, her hands still curling in his hair. Bucky let his hands fall from her chest to instead grip her ass, harshly digging his fingers into her skin, earning him pleasured groans from the girl now over him. She leaned away from him slightly to remove her sweater and the ripped bra from her body, discarding the clothing over her head.

She sat there in all her half-naked glory, her pale chest heaving with excitement and pleasure, her deliciously dark orbs strained on him. She shone with a thin sheen of sweat as Bucky skimmed his hands slowly and lustfully along the smooth planes of her tummy, around her waist, until he once again filled both hands with her soft breasts. She leaned back down quickly, blinding him with an opened-mouth kiss, grinding her hips against his already hardened member. He tried to keep the groans from spilling from his mouth, but it was futile. She straddled him so perfectly, her whole body vulnerable to his eyes and hands, which made him crazy and hungry. He explored every inch of her upper body, ending with a handful of her ass, which had grown hard and _round_ in the last weeks. What had once been soft curves were now hardened edges. She was all toned and strong, a courtesy from all the training she had done.

He strayed from her mouth to kiss along her jaw, his metal hand sliding up her spine, feeling her arch her back once again. He kissed down her neck, feeling her breathing heavily beside his ear, his own hunger and pleasure growing to an apex. His stomach was on fire and everything inside of him burned to be even closer to her. He sat up with her comfortably in his lap, her hardened nipples at eye level. She was playing in his hair, her breathing heavy, as he took one of her nipples inside the warmth of his mouth. He felt her jolt slightly, a muffled yelp emanating from her swollen lips, her hips grounding even harsher against his. He suckled lightly on the little nub, his wet tongue flicking against the sensitive skin. She let out a louder moan, which she tried to hide by stuffing her face into his hair. He held her steady with both hands as she desperately rocked herself against him, making him smirk against her delicate flesh. She dug her nails painfully in the back of his neck, enticing him to lightly graze his teeth on her nipple, earning him a pleasured groan.

"Fucking hell," she breathed, her voice making him hungrier, _harder_ , if that was even possible. With one hand holding her hip, he used his other to slip it under her pants, gripping the bare skin of her rear, squeezing quite painfully. He was unaware of his strength, his mind lost to pursuing his pleasure, the heat in his stomach uncontrollable. He wasn't himself anymore, then, losing himself totally to the feel of her soft flesh in his mouth and the round curve of her butt in his hand, and the steady rhythm of her hips against his.

"Bucky Barnes, I will fucking kill you!"

And suddenly, it was all gone; the warmth, the kissing, the pleasure. Addie ripped away from him in a blink of an eye, the sharp tang of electricity attacking his skin from her loss of control in her fear of being caught. She retracted like a ghost in the shadows of the shed, quickly picking up her discarded clothing.

Bucky lay there, dumbfounded for a second, lost as to why she had so quickly and viciously ripped away from him. Then he heard it; the _whooshing_ of feet against the grass, the heavy breathing of someone running.

He was up in a flash, ignoring the tingles of electricity dotting his flesh. When Clint all but kicked the door open, shedding viciously bright yellow light into the shed, Bucky was lazily sitting on his stool, cleaning his gun with a dirty rag, his face pulled in a scorn.

"You're a dead man," Clint growled, and for a second, Bucky thought the blond man was talking about what he had just done with Addie. Bucky's eyes glazed over in carelessness, then a slight frown knitted his brows.

"What?"

"Where's my bow?" Clint barked, his eyes viciously blue in the dim lighting. "Where are my arrows?"

Bucky couldn't help the little smirk from stretching his lips, a low sigh coming from his mouth. "I don't know, Clint, relax," he answered, trying but failing to hide his laughter. He could only imagine how Addie was feeling, somewhere hidden in the darkness of the shed.

"Everyone says the same thing!" Clint continued, obviously in a rage. "No one's seen them. I asked everyone, except you!" He seemed to calm for a second, crossing his arms over his chest. "And Addie. Have you seen her?"

Bucky shrugged nonchalantly, his own acting surprising himself. "Nope."

Clint looked as if in deep thought, then retracted his steps towards the door, his form illuminated by the backdrop of morning sun seeping through the door. "If I find out you took my bow, Barnes, I'll skin you!" And he was off, leaving the door wide open, Bucky staring into the morning sun.

 _I can only imagine what he'd do if he'd walked in one Addie and me._

There was a long silence following Clint's departure. He couldn't even tell if Addie was still in the shed, the room as silent as the grave. Then he heard the shuffling of feet against the dusty ground and the sounds of movements around crates as a shadow slithered along the wall. She appeared between two high boxes, her eyes timidly avoiding his. She had her sweater back on, yet he couldn't tell if she was adorning the ripped bra.

He didn't say anything as she slowly turned her back on him, walking straight out the door, the moment between them gone with the wind. He watched her go, her figure outlined by the bright and burning morning sun, the light having broken the moment between them that was only meant for the dark.


End file.
